Puddles

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


A very short story written for India Emerald's latest flash challenge.

Submitted: October 06, 2017

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Submitted: October 06, 2017

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Puddles.

Baz was on his hands and knees, reaching under the settee. “I know they’re here somewhere.”

He was looking for his sneakers, his old pair that he could wear for knocking around in. He reached further, stretched, put one hand down on the floor and drew back his hand in horror.

"Mom, there’s a puddle under there!”

Both him and his Mom looked at Bisto, the little puppy they’d owned for just a month. Bisto looked back at them and wagged his tail.

"Help me move the settee,” she said resignedly. “I’ll clean it up this time but....” She left the threat unfinished.

A few days later, Sara was looking for her trekking boots. They weren’t in the porch or in her room.

"Try under the settee,” her brother shouted. “I think I saw them there when I was looking for my sneakers.”

"Will you get them for me, Baz?” she asked.

"Hell, no! Get them yourself.”

Sara was shorter than her brother, had to lay on the floor and thrust her entire arm under the bulky piece of furniture. She pulled out a boot and held it up. It was dripping.

"Bisto!” Baz said accusingly.

"We’ll have to clean it up before Mom gets back. Give us a lift.”

Sara went off to get a rag and a bucket of cleaning fluid then together they lifted the sofa. There was a drip, drip, drip coming from the radiator.

Sara and Baz exchanged glances. “Sorry, Bisto!” they said together.


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