My Nan turned to me, a glint in her eye that I only ever saw at weddings accompanied by a mischievous, cheeky smile, and said, “Do you think there’ll be a punch-up?”
With our clan, it wasn’t possible, nor was it probable. It was flipping inevitable.
What I didn’t know then was that Nan always started them.
About a month before.
The only person with everyone’s ear, she started the rumours in good time to let them bed down and breathe in a little truth.
Once the foundations were laid, the only questions were: How many, How ferocious, How soon?
With our clan, it wasn’t possible, nor was it probable. It was flipping inevitable.
What I didn’t know then was that Nan always started them.
About a month before.
The only person with everyone’s ear, she started the rumours in good time to let them bed down and breathe in a little truth.
Once the foundations were laid, the only questions were: How many, How ferocious, How soon?
Written for the 100 Word Challenge on Thin Spiral Notebook; the prompt was the word, Clan.
