Not of the same calibre as some, I gladly concede (don’t envy the judge!), but this proved to be a great exercise to get the ‘fresh writing’ juices flowing – thanks, Sandra.
Bringing a gun into the house changes it all, doesn’t it? As soon as she caught sight of Daddy’s new addition, taking pride of place in his shiny cabinet, Annie demanded one of her own.
The toy shop obliged.
‘Bang!’ Annie cried, pointing the gun at Mr Smiddles, who barely managed one of his tired, catty stares from the sofa arm.
‘Bang!’ It was Mopsy next, who always did do a good ‘playing dead.’
Mummy dashed in from hanging out the washing. ‘Annie, what’s all that –’
‘Bang!’ Annie giggled, ‘cause Mummy didn’t stay cross for long. ‘I is the winner,’ she declared. ‘Daddy has to take me to his gun club now, doesn’t he, Mummy?’
Afternoon had turned ripe and golden when the car’s purr fell silent after a squeak of brakes. Aiming the fob at the doors, Jim turned and smiled thinly at the girl waving at the window, then sighed. Just look at the little imp. How he wished Diane didn’t leave her to her drawing while she caught up in the kitchen. Look at her – red paint all over her hands – her face. Globs more of it spattered about the window.
Goodness knows what state he’d find the rest of the room in.
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