06:30, the sun was shining already and I decided to get up early and make my way over to the allotment. Margaret had turned over in our bed and sleepily said, ‘I’ll walk over to the allotment and join you there later.’ The rooks were cawing loudly in the nearby rookery, I remember thinking, when I arrived, ‘I would hate to live in one of the houses nearby.’ As soon as I reached our plot, I sensed something was amiss, it wasn’t until I saw the broken glass on the floor outside our shed, I realised we had been victims of an attempted burglary. The large padlock was still securely fastened to the door frame and had obviously resisted all attempts to remove it. The window had been smashed and the villains had tried to squeeze their arms in to steal whatever came to hand. Consequently a nest of shelves had been pulled down and everything was scattered everywhere. At that point Margaret arrived and remarked that all our seed packets and plant labels were all over the place. ‘Oh no!’ She exclaimed, ‘Everything is scattered and jumbled like Jenga’
‘We’d better call the police.’ I said, ‘There’s traces of blood on the glass, who’s Jenga?’
‘It’s a game, don’t worry about it, just call the police!’
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge week 6. The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.
Thank you Vanessa Rodriguez for this week’s prompt photo.
by John Yeo
We live at the top of a very steep hill in the centre of town. Although the crime rate in this locality is low, Father had fitted a burglar alarm above the door, clearly visible from the road and we had a steel gate in front of our front door. Our neighbours in this very quiet road had never been burgled, always smiled at Father’s over-enthusiasm for security. I will never forget the night of the break-in. There was a sound of breaking glass from the rear of our house, Father went to investigate carrying a baseball bat and he was quickly overpowered by three men wearing balaclavas. Mother and I hid in the bedroom, she had called the police who were on the scene in minutes, sirens blaring and lights flashing. The robbers fled, having tied Father up, and escaped with nothing. From that day, although our security is strong, we have never felt safe in our house again. Our private space was irreparably violated.
Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.
This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link: