Is it a good idea to put all of these in one thread? Probably not.
I don't have many at all that I'd be willing to share with you guys, but there was a few from the old site that I rather liked and decided to clean up a bit before putting 'em here.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Todd leaned against the doorway to the church, blinking repeatedly as his ginger locks fell across his face. At least they hid his puffy eyes. He was five - a 'big boy now' as his mother'd referred to him as just a few short weeks ago. Crying was unacceptable. Even though his mother wouldn't be here today. Or anywhere. Ever again.
The bottom of his pants had managed to work their way under his shoes for the umpteenth time this evening. The suit had belonged to Malcolm, his youngest older brother, from when he'd had piano recitals, but the sleeves and legs were far too long to comfortably fit Todd. Curse his sibling's lanky form.
A hand brushed the top of his head and he looked up to see his eldest brother, Joss, as he made his way over to a pew towards the front. The place was starting to fill up, and all the bodies milling around at least meant it warmed up this chilling night. His father had gone to the bathroom a few moments ago, and Todd heard a couple of elderly women whispering about whether or not he'd come back. Panic clutched his chest for a brief moment. Why wouldn't he come back? The tiniest hint of a smirk appeared as he thought grimly, Why would he come back?
But a heartbeat later and his father appeared, looking so strong and so weak at the same time. He managed a tired smile as he passed his youngest son and ruffled Todd's hair. It caused him to wonder what everyone's fascination with his hair was. Not that it was important; none of this was.
He saw a big man in a robe of some sort mount the steps to a small stage at the front of the room. Everyone grew quiet, so unbearably quiet. A handful of people were glancing back at him, twisting around in their pews. It took a few moments to register that they were waiting for him to do something. And when Joss motioned for him to join them, it became obvious what that was. They wanted him to sit up there with everyone else, to hear what the big man had to say about all of this, even though he probably knew less than they did about what happened. Probably hadn't even met the woman all of this was about.
But they were all waiting for him to move. So he did - he slowly backed out of the church, into the biting cold. The next thing he knew, he was racing across the gravel driveway to the woods, something wet and warm running down his cheeks. It wasn't raining, but he knew better than to let himself think it was tears. Sweat. Sure. Sweat.
Before he could make it past the tree line, he'd sunk to his knees, sobbing into his tiny hands. He felt his brothers converging around him, surrounding him in their embrace. They were murmuring things like, "Let it out T-bone," or, "No one blames you for runnin' out."
At least he still had them.
For being more than a year old, it isn't as rubbish as I remembered.
Home 
