I threw at him the nastiest looking thing I dared pierce with my spent lolly stick. That would teach him, I thought.
I was six. I didn’t think he would catch it and stuff it in my mouth.
That was the start of our ongoing battle.
Each day I would find some way to gain revenge for the day before. And each day he would turn it round on me.
I became a tough little girl, often in trouble.
It petered eventually, the year we occupied different playgrounds. And
Looking back, I remember my first attack but cannot remember why.
I was six. I didn’t think he would catch it and stuff it in my mouth.
That was the start of our ongoing battle.
Each day I would find some way to gain revenge for the day before. And each day he would turn it round on me.
I became a tough little girl, often in trouble.
It petered eventually, the year we occupied different playgrounds. And
Looking back, I remember my first attack but cannot remember why.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:
Copyright-Kent Bonham
