The Game
Photo prompt © janet
webb
‘Grandpa, that’s not possible?
You never got stung?’
‘Only once; I recall
that day vividly. A wasp had landed on my reading table. I pounced on it with a
handkerchief in my hand and caught it. Very carefully and cleverly I exposed
its tail. I used my right thumb and first finger like a pincer to pluck wasp’s
sting. But before I could reach its sting, it stung me. Terrified, I released
it. Soon my hand was swollen; the pain was unbearable.’
‘Your mama?’
‘She thrashed me. She
disliked this game of tying strings to wasps’ legs.’
The kid laughed; he
loved this part of the story.
**********
A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt. The post is partly inspired by a childhood
incident.
Word count 107
Nice!
ReplyDeletethanks
DeleteI remember the daring used to play such games. Very nice take on this one.
ReplyDeleteDear Arora,
ReplyDeleteI don't blame mama for being upset. It sounds like a dangerous game.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Ouch... I guess there is a price to pay for being bold... (or bold is close to stupid)
ReplyDeletethanks
DeleteI'm with Mama. Not a good game, but an appealing little story - partly true you say? Youch.
ReplyDeletei tried to follow some of my school mates and got badly stung
DeleteI think he got what he deserved. What a cruel thing to do, picking the wasp's sting. Good story.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by
DeleteFirst time here. Enjoyed this tiny story. :)
ReplyDeletethanks Preethi
Delete