Over seven days from Monday 21st July, Only Me, a brand new short story, unfolds. Each part is precisely 140 characters in length (a tweet). You can follow the tale here, on Twitter or on Facebook.
Only Me ~ Part 1
I like the way the leaves fly into the air every time I kick them. Some even reach my head. I'm sure my hood is playing catch with them too.
He's there again by the swings. I saw him there before; I can feel him there now. I used to go on the swings often. Not any more. I daren’t.
I shake the leaves out of my hood, pull it up over my head to sneak a glance without making it seem obvious. I turn. He's there. Next to me.
Mum always says I shouldn't speak to strangers, so I don't. But it's hard to turn away from his odd stare. "You're my brother," he tells me.
I keep my lips tightly together. Mum also told me never to trust strangers. I want to go home but he's bigger, taller. He'd easily catch me.
"I always wanted a brother," he says. His red baseball cap has a bear's head on it. Over his lip is a trace of hair; through his ear, metal.
The wind's making my eyes water. I hope he doesn't think I'm crying. A siren comes close then moves off, prompting his head to turn briefly.
"I won't hurt you. There's no need to cry," he says. "I'm NOT crying," I snap back, without thinking, having just broken one of Mum's rules.
"That's the first time I've heard you speak properly," he tells me. I shrug then turn, embarrassed. "If you're my brother, tell me my name."
The siren's back, on this side of the park. I look over my shoulder as its insistent scream amplifies. When I turn back to him, he has gone.
Part 2 coming Tuesday 22nd July
Only Me ~ Part 1
I like the way the leaves fly into the air every time I kick them. Some even reach my head. I'm sure my hood is playing catch with them too.
He's there again by the swings. I saw him there before; I can feel him there now. I used to go on the swings often. Not any more. I daren’t.
I shake the leaves out of my hood, pull it up over my head to sneak a glance without making it seem obvious. I turn. He's there. Next to me.
Mum always says I shouldn't speak to strangers, so I don't. But it's hard to turn away from his odd stare. "You're my brother," he tells me.
I keep my lips tightly together. Mum also told me never to trust strangers. I want to go home but he's bigger, taller. He'd easily catch me.
"I always wanted a brother," he says. His red baseball cap has a bear's head on it. Over his lip is a trace of hair; through his ear, metal.
The wind's making my eyes water. I hope he doesn't think I'm crying. A siren comes close then moves off, prompting his head to turn briefly.
"I won't hurt you. There's no need to cry," he says. "I'm NOT crying," I snap back, without thinking, having just broken one of Mum's rules.
"That's the first time I've heard you speak properly," he tells me. I shrug then turn, embarrassed. "If you're my brother, tell me my name."
The siren's back, on this side of the park. I look over my shoulder as its insistent scream amplifies. When I turn back to him, he has gone.
Part 2 coming Tuesday 22nd July
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