The Winner

I was really please to stumble across Write on Wednesday  at Ink, Paper, Pen.   

So many times I’ve revisited posts that I’ve written and thought of all the things I’ve left out . So, and I hope it is considered in the spirit of things, I’ve taken an extract from an earlier post Slightly Singed (part two)   and expanded it to set the scene a little more clearly.

This weeks Write on Wednesday’s theme is: “Detective Dialogue: For this exercise you need to be a little bit sneaky. And brave. You need to be around at least 2 other people (or a small child who will happily chat to himself and/or imaginary friends). Write down a conversation/dialogue exchange as you hear it.”

So, here is my contribution:

I rested my book in the sand and lay back on the rug. My face upturned to the clear blue sky, one hand shading my eyes against the glare of the sun.

The warmth soaked into my bones, my whole body began to relax.

Gradually I filtered out the sounds one by one. Gulls screeching over head. The distant sounds of the funfair. A mother scolding her child. The faint jingle of the donkeys harness as they slowly plodded up and down the seafront.

Switching off the babble and hubbub of the seaside, retreating into a world filled with only the heat of the sun and the tang of salt in the air.

’Clever Trevor’s going to win’. ‘No, Drop Dead Gary will get there first!’ The high pitched voices of two Brummie lads pierced my consciousness and piqued my curiosity.

I opened one eye. One dark haired, one curly and fair, both kneeling in the sand. 

Damp sand encrusted bottoms in the air, faces peering intently at something I couldn’t see. I rolled over and put my sunglasses on. Now I could observe without being seen.

‘Come on Clever Trevor’.

‘You can do it Drop Dead Garry’.

‘I can see him, look, he’s almost dug his way out.  I was right! Clever Trevor got there first. I’m the winner. I’m the king of the castle, you’re the dirty rascal’.

Then he leant forward and picked up something I still couldn’t see.

Holding out his hand, the sand trickling from between his fingers he shouted joyfully. ‘Fly away Clever Trevor, go back to your family, I’ll always remember you’.

And, with a whir of wings, the ladybird took flight and disappeared.