“Who’s ruining our day Sam?” Susie asked in disbelief. Her lips were stretched tight like a rubber band about to snap, her eyes filled with an inferno that displayed concretely her nearly uncontrollable anger.

Samuel and Susie stood in the pouring rain. An umbrella, hoisted above their heads, was managing to keep the cold early June precipitation from soaking their hair, but it did not stop it from dripping on to their shoes. And Samuel hated that. He didn’t like the splatter marks which the drops made on his new brown walking shoes. To him, the drops (and the marks they left) were another reminder that, despite our best efforts, things inevitably slip through cracks.

Both of the children were angry. They looked at each other with furrowed brows and angry scowls. There was no need for words at this point. They knew perfectly well that their day was completely spoiled. They weren’t going to get what they wanted and this was not acceptable to either of them.

Sam wiggled his hand around in his pocket, wrapped his fingers around a cool metallic object and removed the palmed item from his pocket just tiny bit, as though he were a gambler peeking covertly at his hand of cards during a high stakes game of poker. Sam slid the gold key back into his pocket and spoke confidently with resolve, “I don’t know who’s ruining our day, Susie, but we’ll find out.”

The above paragraphs are from the beginning of a short story I started writing a while ago for the Unfolded podcast but never finished. I’m thinking I might start working on it again.

Tags:short storiesUnfoldedwriting