flash fiction, flashfiction, microfiction, short story

‘The Slider’



Harry’s sat at the top of the slide, refusing to come down.   I’m not even sure that he could if he wanted, having got up there.   I’ll have to fetch a broom, try pushing from behind.  I don’t think the hose’d be powerful enough.

What a forlorn sight, leaves drifting down around him, some settling on his head.  He swipes off a large yellowed maple.  “I’ve got better things to be doing, young Harry,” I tell him.   “The hall needs clearing before Assembly tomorrow, and the teachers have blocked their loo again!”, which gets me a smile.  “I’m sorry, Mr Brown,” he mumbles, trying to tuck that smile away.  I take one last bite and hand up my Double Decker for him to finish, and he reaches down with his trunk to take it.  I can’t wait for the day when he starts to fight those little bastards back.


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