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Barbara stared long and hard at the range of soups until a familiar arm obscured her view, grabbing the trusty tomato flavour.
“I don’t know why we have to spend so long in here every weekend. You always get the same things, why do you find it so difficult to choose?”
“Oh do shut up Ronald. If you hate it so much, why do you insist on coming with me every time?”
“Because I like to be with you, that’s why. I just don’t know why you ever consider the lentil soup, I couldn’t eat that, it’d give me wind worse than nobody’s business.”
“Don’t be so bloody daft. Don’t you ever get sick of eating the same things?”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a deal. If you agree to do something different next weekend, I’ll agree to try your lentil soup.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Horse riding.”
“Horse riding? We’re too old for horse riding!”
“Of course we’re not. Just because we’re retired, doesn’t mean we can’t try new things. I’ve seen you look at those horses at the riding school down the road, you’d love it.”
“Looking at them is one thing Ronald, riding one is quite different!”
“It’s easy, I did it all the time as a boy. You only need try it, if you don’t like it, you can get off.”
“Well okay then, but next week we’ll be putting something different in the trolley.”
That night Barbara dreamt of horses. She was riding alongside Ronald when her horse bolted, and she was thrown into a ditch. Everyone was pointing and laughing at her as she pulled herself up, covered in mud, her favourite dress in tatters, and twigs in her hair.
Barbara woke late that morning to the smell of bacon. The door was pushed open and Ronald appeared holding a tray. Barbara’s stomach turned, but she smiled at the gesture.
“Oh thank you darling!” she said, as he placed the tray on her lap.
“That’s okay, anything for you,” he said as he left the room.
Barbara cut the bacon and raised the fork to her mouth. As the grease touched her lips she felt her stomach begin its protest. Nevertheless she ate it, not wanting to seem unappreciative of the effort. One rasher of bacon and half of the overdone egg had been consumed before Ronald returned.
“Good news Barbara, I called the stables, and we’re booked in for an hour on Saturday morning.”
The revolt in her stomach became an uprising and she darted for the bathroom. The bitter taste of bile and bacon filled her mouth, and she released it into the toilet. She rinsed her mouth, trying to get rid of the awful tang of vomit.
As the days passed and Saturday grew nearer and nearer, Barbara only worried more. What if she got thrown in front of the horse and trampled upon? What if she fell backwards and ended up getting dragged behind it like something from a Western movie? But a deal was a deal, and Ronald was clearly excited about getting on a horse again, that she didn’t want to let him down.
Saturday morning arrived and Barbara felt no better about the prospect of getting on a horse. She could always go along, and back out at the last minute, let Ronald have a go, and still let him buy the same old things as he always did, that way he wouldn’t miss out. In the car Barbara was delivered a speech on all things horse related. Ronald had decided that he was something of an expert in recent days, despite not having been on a horse for some forty years. His speech was so dull, that Barbara was glad to reach the stables, so that he would stop. This sudden knowledge on grooming and shoeing was not something she had any desire to learn of.
As they pushed the car doors shut they were greeted by a young man on a horse.
“Hello there!” he cried as he dismounted. “You must be Ronald and Barbara. I’m John, I’ll be taking you out today. Now could I just ask you, do you have any experience on horseback?”
“No” said Barbara, as she stood eye-to-eye with the horse, surprised by how big it was up close.
“I’ve ridden rather a lot” said Ronald “though it was some years ago.”
“Well you never really forget. Barbara, we have one that should be ideal for a novice, she’s very gentle, and is good with the learners. Ronald, I’ll expect you’ll want something a little bigger, as you sound like a bit of an expert.”
Barbara was pleased to see that her horse was significantly smaller than John’s. Whilst Ronald insisted on getting on his horse himself, John came across to help Barbara on. Her feet were barely be than a couple of feet from the ground, and though she was a little lower than Ronald, she didn’t mind that at all. As they moved off Barbara held onto the reins tightly, but John had been right about the horse, she was a very gentle creature. Within minutes Barbara had become accustomed to her, and was beginning to enjoy it. Ronald was as comfortable as she imagined he would have been, having no trouble with the larger beast.
John led the two of them along a well-trodden path. Barbara enjoyed the ride and the fresh air, and was glad that Ronald had convinced her to try it. She thought back to those dreams, and chuckled, thinking about how silly she had been.
She called out to her husband “Isn’t this wonderful?”
But before he had chance to reply the sound of a low flying aircraft tore through the air. Ronald’s horse bolted, taking him into the distance. Barbara watched in horror as Ronald’s body jerked back, but somehow he had managed to grab onto the mane and pull himself upright before throwing his arms around it’s neck, then he was out of view.
“He’s left the track. Hop on with me, we’ll go get him” called John as he offered his hand to help Barbara up.
She placed her arms around his waist and held tightly as his horse broke into a gallop. With her hands wrapped around John’s young, firm body, and the wind rushing through her hair she forgot about Ronald for a tiny moment until the sound of a car horn pierced the air.
Barbara tried to peer over John’s shoulder to see what was going on, but when she realised that to do that she may have to loosen her grip she changed her mind.
“He’s gone straight across!” cried John as they approached the road, and he brought the horse to a stop.
“He must be the luckiest man alive!” said John as he gazed at the traffic flying down the road. “We’ll have to wait for a gap.”
When they finally got across the road they again stopped, looking for an indication of where Ronald had been taken.
“This way!” cried John as he headed for a newly formed break in the hedge. He followed a path through the fields until they arrived at somewhere very familiar to Barbara, the supermarket.
Outside they could see a gathering of people, growing larger all of the time as shoppers enjoyed the change in the usual monotony of the weekly shop. The crowd parted briefly and through the crowd came Ronald’s horse, being led by a nervous looking store worker. John took Barbara to the entrance and helped her down. She ran into the store, afraid of what she was going to see. There was a second crowd inside, and Barbara knew that it would be Ronald that they were crowded around. She forced her way through, pleading, pushing and pulling at the spectators until she saw an uncomfortable looking Ronald, being tended to by a couple of members of staff.
She knelt down beside him, then shot back up again as something wet touched her knees. She looked down to see that the floor was covered in a blood.
“He crashed into that display” said one of the girls, pointing to the shelves behind Barbara.
She turned around to see cans strewn across the floor, half of which had burst open, leaving tomato soup spread across the aisle as a janitor tried to chase it with his mop. She looked back at Ronald and at the floor. Of course it hadn’t been blood around Ronald, she realised, thinking that it had looked far too orange anyway.
Ronald beckoned towards Barbara, and she knelt back beside him, no longer concerned by the liquid around him. “Barbara” said Ronald, trying to hide how much pain he was in, “I don’t think I’ll fancy tomato soup again in a hurry.”
“I don’t know why we have to spend so long in here every weekend. You always get the same things, why do you find it so difficult to choose?”
“Oh do shut up Ronald. If you hate it so much, why do you insist on coming with me every time?”
“Because I like to be with you, that’s why. I just don’t know why you ever consider the lentil soup, I couldn’t eat that, it’d give me wind worse than nobody’s business.”
“Don’t be so bloody daft. Don’t you ever get sick of eating the same things?”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a deal. If you agree to do something different next weekend, I’ll agree to try your lentil soup.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Horse riding.”
“Horse riding? We’re too old for horse riding!”
“Of course we’re not. Just because we’re retired, doesn’t mean we can’t try new things. I’ve seen you look at those horses at the riding school down the road, you’d love it.”
“Looking at them is one thing Ronald, riding one is quite different!”
“It’s easy, I did it all the time as a boy. You only need try it, if you don’t like it, you can get off.”
“Well okay then, but next week we’ll be putting something different in the trolley.”
That night Barbara dreamt of horses. She was riding alongside Ronald when her horse bolted, and she was thrown into a ditch. Everyone was pointing and laughing at her as she pulled herself up, covered in mud, her favourite dress in tatters, and twigs in her hair.
Barbara woke late that morning to the smell of bacon. The door was pushed open and Ronald appeared holding a tray. Barbara’s stomach turned, but she smiled at the gesture.
“Oh thank you darling!” she said, as he placed the tray on her lap.
“That’s okay, anything for you,” he said as he left the room.
Barbara cut the bacon and raised the fork to her mouth. As the grease touched her lips she felt her stomach begin its protest. Nevertheless she ate it, not wanting to seem unappreciative of the effort. One rasher of bacon and half of the overdone egg had been consumed before Ronald returned.
“Good news Barbara, I called the stables, and we’re booked in for an hour on Saturday morning.”
The revolt in her stomach became an uprising and she darted for the bathroom. The bitter taste of bile and bacon filled her mouth, and she released it into the toilet. She rinsed her mouth, trying to get rid of the awful tang of vomit.
As the days passed and Saturday grew nearer and nearer, Barbara only worried more. What if she got thrown in front of the horse and trampled upon? What if she fell backwards and ended up getting dragged behind it like something from a Western movie? But a deal was a deal, and Ronald was clearly excited about getting on a horse again, that she didn’t want to let him down.
Saturday morning arrived and Barbara felt no better about the prospect of getting on a horse. She could always go along, and back out at the last minute, let Ronald have a go, and still let him buy the same old things as he always did, that way he wouldn’t miss out. In the car Barbara was delivered a speech on all things horse related. Ronald had decided that he was something of an expert in recent days, despite not having been on a horse for some forty years. His speech was so dull, that Barbara was glad to reach the stables, so that he would stop. This sudden knowledge on grooming and shoeing was not something she had any desire to learn of.
As they pushed the car doors shut they were greeted by a young man on a horse.
“Hello there!” he cried as he dismounted. “You must be Ronald and Barbara. I’m John, I’ll be taking you out today. Now could I just ask you, do you have any experience on horseback?”
“No” said Barbara, as she stood eye-to-eye with the horse, surprised by how big it was up close.
“I’ve ridden rather a lot” said Ronald “though it was some years ago.”
“Well you never really forget. Barbara, we have one that should be ideal for a novice, she’s very gentle, and is good with the learners. Ronald, I’ll expect you’ll want something a little bigger, as you sound like a bit of an expert.”
Barbara was pleased to see that her horse was significantly smaller than John’s. Whilst Ronald insisted on getting on his horse himself, John came across to help Barbara on. Her feet were barely be than a couple of feet from the ground, and though she was a little lower than Ronald, she didn’t mind that at all. As they moved off Barbara held onto the reins tightly, but John had been right about the horse, she was a very gentle creature. Within minutes Barbara had become accustomed to her, and was beginning to enjoy it. Ronald was as comfortable as she imagined he would have been, having no trouble with the larger beast.
John led the two of them along a well-trodden path. Barbara enjoyed the ride and the fresh air, and was glad that Ronald had convinced her to try it. She thought back to those dreams, and chuckled, thinking about how silly she had been.
She called out to her husband “Isn’t this wonderful?”
But before he had chance to reply the sound of a low flying aircraft tore through the air. Ronald’s horse bolted, taking him into the distance. Barbara watched in horror as Ronald’s body jerked back, but somehow he had managed to grab onto the mane and pull himself upright before throwing his arms around it’s neck, then he was out of view.
“He’s left the track. Hop on with me, we’ll go get him” called John as he offered his hand to help Barbara up.
She placed her arms around his waist and held tightly as his horse broke into a gallop. With her hands wrapped around John’s young, firm body, and the wind rushing through her hair she forgot about Ronald for a tiny moment until the sound of a car horn pierced the air.
Barbara tried to peer over John’s shoulder to see what was going on, but when she realised that to do that she may have to loosen her grip she changed her mind.
“He’s gone straight across!” cried John as they approached the road, and he brought the horse to a stop.
“He must be the luckiest man alive!” said John as he gazed at the traffic flying down the road. “We’ll have to wait for a gap.”
When they finally got across the road they again stopped, looking for an indication of where Ronald had been taken.
“This way!” cried John as he headed for a newly formed break in the hedge. He followed a path through the fields until they arrived at somewhere very familiar to Barbara, the supermarket.
Outside they could see a gathering of people, growing larger all of the time as shoppers enjoyed the change in the usual monotony of the weekly shop. The crowd parted briefly and through the crowd came Ronald’s horse, being led by a nervous looking store worker. John took Barbara to the entrance and helped her down. She ran into the store, afraid of what she was going to see. There was a second crowd inside, and Barbara knew that it would be Ronald that they were crowded around. She forced her way through, pleading, pushing and pulling at the spectators until she saw an uncomfortable looking Ronald, being tended to by a couple of members of staff.
She knelt down beside him, then shot back up again as something wet touched her knees. She looked down to see that the floor was covered in a blood.
“He crashed into that display” said one of the girls, pointing to the shelves behind Barbara.
She turned around to see cans strewn across the floor, half of which had burst open, leaving tomato soup spread across the aisle as a janitor tried to chase it with his mop. She looked back at Ronald and at the floor. Of course it hadn’t been blood around Ronald, she realised, thinking that it had looked far too orange anyway.
Ronald beckoned towards Barbara, and she knelt back beside him, no longer concerned by the liquid around him. “Barbara” said Ronald, trying to hide how much pain he was in, “I don’t think I’ll fancy tomato soup again in a hurry.”
Barbara stared long and hard at the range of soups until a familiar arm obscured her view, grabbing the trusty tomato flavour.
“I don’t know why we have to spend so long in here every weekend. You always get the same things, why do you find it so difficult to choose?”
“Oh do shut up Ronald. If you hate it so much, why do you insist on coming with me every time?”
“Because I like to be with you, that’s why. I just don’t know why you ever consider the lentil soup, I couldn’t eat that, it’d give me wind worse than nobody’s business.”
“Don’t be so bloody daft. Don’t you ever get sick of eating the same things?”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a deal. If you agree to do something different next weekend, I’ll agree to try your lentil soup.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Horse riding.”
“Horse riding? We’re too old for horse riding!”
“Of course we’re not. Just because we’re retired, doesn’t mean we can’t try new things. I’ve seen you look at those horses at the riding school down the road, you’d love it.”
“Looking at them is one thing Ronald, riding one is quite different!”
“It’s easy, I did it all the time as a boy. You only need try it, if you don’t like it, you can get off.”
“Well okay then, but next week we’ll be putting something different in the trolley.”
That night Barbara dreamt of horses. She was riding alongside Ronald when her horse bolted, and she was thrown into a ditch. Everyone was pointing and laughing at her as she pulled herself up, covered in mud, her favourite dress in tatters, and twigs in her hair.
Barbara woke late that morning to the smell of bacon. The door was pushed open and Ronald appeared holding a tray. Barbara’s stomach turned, but she smiled at the gesture.
“Oh thank you darling!” she said, as he placed the tray on her lap.
“That’s okay, anything for you,” he said as he left the room.
Barbara cut the bacon and raised the fork to her mouth. As the grease touched her lips she felt her stomach begin its protest. Nevertheless she ate it, not wanting to seem unappreciative of the effort. One rasher of bacon and half of the overdone egg had been consumed before Ronald returned.
“Good news Barbara, I called the stables, and we’re booked in for an hour on Saturday morning.”
The revolt in her stomach became an uprising and she darted for the bathroom. The bitter taste of bile and bacon filled her mouth, and she released it into the toilet. She rinsed her mouth, trying to get rid of the awful tang of vomit.
As the days passed and Saturday grew nearer and nearer, Barbara only worried more. What if she got thrown in front of the horse and trampled upon? What if she fell backwards and ended up getting dragged behind it like something from a Western movie? But a deal was a deal, and Ronald was clearly excited about getting on a horse again, that she didn’t want to let him down.
Saturday morning arrived and Barbara felt no better about the prospect of getting on a horse. She could always go along, and back out at the last minute, let Ronald have a go, and still let him buy the same old things as he always did, that way he wouldn’t miss out. In the car Barbara was delivered a speech on all things horse related. Ronald had decided that he was something of an expert in recent days, despite not having been on a horse for some forty years. His speech was so dull, that Barbara was glad to reach the stables, so that he would stop. This sudden knowledge on grooming and shoeing was not something she had any desire to learn of.
As they pushed the car doors shut they were greeted by a young man on a horse.
“Hello there!” he cried as he dismounted. “You must be Ronald and Barbara. I’m John, I’ll be taking you out today. Now could I just ask you, do you have any experience on horseback?”
“No” said Barbara, as she stood eye-to-eye with the horse, surprised by how big it was up close.
“I’ve ridden rather a lot” said Ronald “though it was some years ago.”
“Well you never really forget. Barbara, we have one that should be ideal for a novice, she’s very gentle, and is good with the learners. Ronald, I’ll expect you’ll want something a little bigger, as you sound like a bit of an expert.”
Barbara was pleased to see that her horse was significantly smaller than John’s. Whilst Ronald insisted on getting on his horse himself, John came across to help Barbara on. Her feet were barely be than a couple of feet from the ground, and though she was a little lower than Ronald, she didn’t mind that at all. As they moved off Barbara held onto the reins tightly, but John had been right about the horse, she was a very gentle creature. Within minutes Barbara had become accustomed to her, and was beginning to enjoy it. Ronald was as comfortable as she imagined he would have been, having no trouble with the larger beast.
John led the two of them along a well-trodden path. Barbara enjoyed the ride and the fresh air, and was glad that Ronald had convinced her to try it. She thought back to those dreams, and chuckled, thinking about how silly she had been.
She called out to her husband “Isn’t this wonderful?”
But before he had chance to reply the sound of a low flying aircraft tore through the air. Ronald’s horse bolted, taking him into the distance. Barbara watched in horror as Ronald’s body jerked back, but somehow he had managed to grab onto the mane and pull himself upright before throwing his arms around it’s neck, then he was out of view.
“He’s left the track. Hop on with me, we’ll go get him” called John as he offered his hand to help Barbara up.
She placed her arms around his waist and held tightly as his horse broke into a gallop. With her hands wrapped around John’s young, firm body, and the wind rushing through her hair she forgot about Ronald for a tiny moment until the sound of a car horn pierced the air.
Barbara tried to peer over John’s shoulder to see what was going on, but when she realised that to do that she may have to loosen her grip she changed her mind.
“He’s gone straight across!” cried John as they approached the road, and he brought the horse to a stop.
“He must be the luckiest man alive!” said John as he gazed at the traffic flying down the road. “We’ll have to wait for a gap.”
When they finally got across the road they again stopped, looking for an indication of where Ronald had been taken.
“This way!” cried John as he headed for a newly formed break in the hedge. He followed a path through the fields until they arrived at somewhere very familiar to Barbara, the supermarket.
Outside they could see a gathering of people, growing larger all of the time as shoppers enjoyed the change in the usual monotony of the weekly shop. The crowd parted briefly and through the crowd came Ronald’s horse, being led by a nervous looking store worker. John took Barbara to the entrance and helped her down. She ran into the store, afraid of what she was going to see. There was a second crowd inside, and Barbara knew that it would be Ronald that they were crowded around. She forced her way through, pleading, pushing and pulling at the spectators until she saw an uncomfortable looking Ronald, being tended to by a couple of members of staff.
She knelt down beside him, then shot back up again as something wet touched her knees. She looked down to see that the floor was covered in a blood.
“He crashed into that display” said one of the girls, pointing to the shelves behind Barbara.
She turned around to see cans strewn across the floor, half of which had burst open, leaving tomato soup spread across the aisle as a janitor tried to chase it with his mop. She looked back at Ronald and at the floor. Of course it hadn’t been blood around Ronald, she realised, thinking that it had looked far too orange anyway.
Ronald beckoned towards Barbara, and she knelt back beside him, no longer concerned by the liquid around him. “Barbara” said Ronald, trying to hide how much pain he was in, “I don’t think I’ll fancy tomato soup again in a hurry.”
“I don’t know why we have to spend so long in here every weekend. You always get the same things, why do you find it so difficult to choose?”
“Oh do shut up Ronald. If you hate it so much, why do you insist on coming with me every time?”
“Because I like to be with you, that’s why. I just don’t know why you ever consider the lentil soup, I couldn’t eat that, it’d give me wind worse than nobody’s business.”
“Don’t be so bloody daft. Don’t you ever get sick of eating the same things?”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a deal. If you agree to do something different next weekend, I’ll agree to try your lentil soup.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Horse riding.”
“Horse riding? We’re too old for horse riding!”
“Of course we’re not. Just because we’re retired, doesn’t mean we can’t try new things. I’ve seen you look at those horses at the riding school down the road, you’d love it.”
“Looking at them is one thing Ronald, riding one is quite different!”
“It’s easy, I did it all the time as a boy. You only need try it, if you don’t like it, you can get off.”
“Well okay then, but next week we’ll be putting something different in the trolley.”
That night Barbara dreamt of horses. She was riding alongside Ronald when her horse bolted, and she was thrown into a ditch. Everyone was pointing and laughing at her as she pulled herself up, covered in mud, her favourite dress in tatters, and twigs in her hair.
Barbara woke late that morning to the smell of bacon. The door was pushed open and Ronald appeared holding a tray. Barbara’s stomach turned, but she smiled at the gesture.
“Oh thank you darling!” she said, as he placed the tray on her lap.
“That’s okay, anything for you,” he said as he left the room.
Barbara cut the bacon and raised the fork to her mouth. As the grease touched her lips she felt her stomach begin its protest. Nevertheless she ate it, not wanting to seem unappreciative of the effort. One rasher of bacon and half of the overdone egg had been consumed before Ronald returned.
“Good news Barbara, I called the stables, and we’re booked in for an hour on Saturday morning.”
The revolt in her stomach became an uprising and she darted for the bathroom. The bitter taste of bile and bacon filled her mouth, and she released it into the toilet. She rinsed her mouth, trying to get rid of the awful tang of vomit.
As the days passed and Saturday grew nearer and nearer, Barbara only worried more. What if she got thrown in front of the horse and trampled upon? What if she fell backwards and ended up getting dragged behind it like something from a Western movie? But a deal was a deal, and Ronald was clearly excited about getting on a horse again, that she didn’t want to let him down.
Saturday morning arrived and Barbara felt no better about the prospect of getting on a horse. She could always go along, and back out at the last minute, let Ronald have a go, and still let him buy the same old things as he always did, that way he wouldn’t miss out. In the car Barbara was delivered a speech on all things horse related. Ronald had decided that he was something of an expert in recent days, despite not having been on a horse for some forty years. His speech was so dull, that Barbara was glad to reach the stables, so that he would stop. This sudden knowledge on grooming and shoeing was not something she had any desire to learn of.
As they pushed the car doors shut they were greeted by a young man on a horse.
“Hello there!” he cried as he dismounted. “You must be Ronald and Barbara. I’m John, I’ll be taking you out today. Now could I just ask you, do you have any experience on horseback?”
“No” said Barbara, as she stood eye-to-eye with the horse, surprised by how big it was up close.
“I’ve ridden rather a lot” said Ronald “though it was some years ago.”
“Well you never really forget. Barbara, we have one that should be ideal for a novice, she’s very gentle, and is good with the learners. Ronald, I’ll expect you’ll want something a little bigger, as you sound like a bit of an expert.”
Barbara was pleased to see that her horse was significantly smaller than John’s. Whilst Ronald insisted on getting on his horse himself, John came across to help Barbara on. Her feet were barely be than a couple of feet from the ground, and though she was a little lower than Ronald, she didn’t mind that at all. As they moved off Barbara held onto the reins tightly, but John had been right about the horse, she was a very gentle creature. Within minutes Barbara had become accustomed to her, and was beginning to enjoy it. Ronald was as comfortable as she imagined he would have been, having no trouble with the larger beast.
John led the two of them along a well-trodden path. Barbara enjoyed the ride and the fresh air, and was glad that Ronald had convinced her to try it. She thought back to those dreams, and chuckled, thinking about how silly she had been.
She called out to her husband “Isn’t this wonderful?”
But before he had chance to reply the sound of a low flying aircraft tore through the air. Ronald’s horse bolted, taking him into the distance. Barbara watched in horror as Ronald’s body jerked back, but somehow he had managed to grab onto the mane and pull himself upright before throwing his arms around it’s neck, then he was out of view.
“He’s left the track. Hop on with me, we’ll go get him” called John as he offered his hand to help Barbara up.
She placed her arms around his waist and held tightly as his horse broke into a gallop. With her hands wrapped around John’s young, firm body, and the wind rushing through her hair she forgot about Ronald for a tiny moment until the sound of a car horn pierced the air.
Barbara tried to peer over John’s shoulder to see what was going on, but when she realised that to do that she may have to loosen her grip she changed her mind.
“He’s gone straight across!” cried John as they approached the road, and he brought the horse to a stop.
“He must be the luckiest man alive!” said John as he gazed at the traffic flying down the road. “We’ll have to wait for a gap.”
When they finally got across the road they again stopped, looking for an indication of where Ronald had been taken.
“This way!” cried John as he headed for a newly formed break in the hedge. He followed a path through the fields until they arrived at somewhere very familiar to Barbara, the supermarket.
Outside they could see a gathering of people, growing larger all of the time as shoppers enjoyed the change in the usual monotony of the weekly shop. The crowd parted briefly and through the crowd came Ronald’s horse, being led by a nervous looking store worker. John took Barbara to the entrance and helped her down. She ran into the store, afraid of what she was going to see. There was a second crowd inside, and Barbara knew that it would be Ronald that they were crowded around. She forced her way through, pleading, pushing and pulling at the spectators until she saw an uncomfortable looking Ronald, being tended to by a couple of members of staff.
She knelt down beside him, then shot back up again as something wet touched her knees. She looked down to see that the floor was covered in a blood.
“He crashed into that display” said one of the girls, pointing to the shelves behind Barbara.
She turned around to see cans strewn across the floor, half of which had burst open, leaving tomato soup spread across the aisle as a janitor tried to chase it with his mop. She looked back at Ronald and at the floor. Of course it hadn’t been blood around Ronald, she realised, thinking that it had looked far too orange anyway.
Ronald beckoned towards Barbara, and she knelt back beside him, no longer concerned by the liquid around him. “Barbara” said Ronald, trying to hide how much pain he was in, “I don’t think I’ll fancy tomato soup again in a hurry.”
To be honest, it wasn't great.
Your writing is very good, that goes without saying.
But the content was boring, and a little pointless.
Your writing is very good, that goes without saying.
But the content was boring, and a little pointless.
Agreed. And the end line wasn't impressive like they usually are.
you put 'Something Different (a short story)' but a short story in this forum isn't different.!
I liked it.
Not the usual comic style, and the ending felt a bit.. flat, but for the most part it was very good.
Not the usual comic style, and the ending felt a bit.. flat, but for the most part it was very good.
Thanks for the comments.
I don't mind that some of you didn't like it, it's quite different to some of the otrhers I've written, and the subject matter isn't really that appealing to the kind of people that visit this site.
I'm going ot enter it into a competition though, as I feel that it might just be the kind of thing that would suit this particular one.
I don't mind that some of you didn't like it, it's quite different to some of the otrhers I've written, and the subject matter isn't really that appealing to the kind of people that visit this site.
I'm going ot enter it into a competition though, as I feel that it might just be the kind of thing that would suit this particular one.
Heh. Nice story. You should sell that to reader's digest (no, it's not an insult, they pay £200 per story). I really enjoyed that.
its good i like the style ending needs to be well livend up a wee bit