Rob Kitchin's Blog, page 2

They're in love

‘Are you coming down?’

‘I still can’t get used to this. She’s two years older than his grandchild.’

‘I thought we weren’t going to discuss this again?’

‘When the baby’s born, technically it’ll be my step-brother even though our son will be twenty-three years older.’

‘They’re in love, that’s all that matters. Come-on, she’s serving dinner.’

‘Which is another thing I can’t fathom. What does she see in the old bastard?’

‘Who knows? But she signed the pre-nup; she’ll inherit nothing when he passes.’

‘She’ll have the kid.’

‘Just remember to call her mom.’

‘Please, don’t. It’s not funny, Val.’

 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

This is the line

‘Just loan me the money, Cassie.’

‘I might as well just hand it straight over to the bookies.’

‘Is this how you treat your father?’

‘I don’t earn money so you can just waste it.’

‘If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be alive to earn money.’

‘If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have grown up fearing the bailiffs and moving from town to town.’

‘Just give me the money, Cassie.’

‘There isn’t any bloody money! Who do you think is paying the rent?’

‘Cass, come-on. These are serious guys.’

‘I’m serious, Dad. This is the line. The end.’ 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

None of us were innocent

 Tom squeezed a smidgen of glue into the slot.

‘Do you remember that girl in our class that used to sniff glue? She was mad for it.’

‘She was mad full-stop,’ Fred said.

‘Cassie Monday,’ Jenny muttered.

‘I wonder whatever happened to her?’

‘Probably still living in a different world.’

‘She killed herself,’ Jenny said.

‘Really? Wow.’

‘She was transferred, but the bullying carried on in the new school.’

‘Bullying?’

‘You two were the worst. Teasing her.’

‘Us?’

‘Yes, you.’

‘We were bystanders.’

‘You were enablers.’

‘You’re saying that we killed her?’

‘I’m saying none of us were innocent.’

‘Fuck.’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

False flags

I find it difficult to talk about it. Honestly. He spent the entire afternoon with his secretary. Laughing and joking. They spent over an hour in a small place off Henry Street and left giggling like school children. I thought he’d at least go somewhere with a bit of class, not a run-down place on its last legs. Then that evening he had the nerve to take me out to our favourite restaurant. He’s so dense he didn’t even realise I was seething mad. Then he proposed. After spending hours with her. Would you accept a ring that she’d chosen?

 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Bosses date too

Paula pushed Gavin away and tugged her top over her head.

‘Whoa, slow down.’

‘Come.’ Paula rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘To bed.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘It’s an excellent idea.’

‘Are you sure you won’t regret it in the morning?’

‘Will you?’

‘Probably.’

Paula dropped back onto the sofa.

‘Seriously? You get me all aroused then throw cold water?’

‘I didn’t expect you to …’

‘Throw myself at you?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘I’d have been waiting forever for you to make a move.’

‘You’re my boss.’

‘And?’

‘It’s …’

‘Bosses date too, Gavin.’

She kissed him again.

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Aim true

 Kenny’s head thumped against the wheel arch. They had left the road and were bouncing across potholes.

Despite his struggling, his hands and feet were still tightly bound with plastic ties.

The car came to a sudden halt. Two doors opened and were banged shut. A moment later the boot lid sprang up.

‘Get him out.’

‘Just shoot him and set the car on fire.’

‘And how do we get back, moron?’

‘Fuck.’

Three seconds later Kenny toppled to the ground.

‘Look, guys …’

‘Shut-up, Kenny. It’s over.’

‘I …’

What was the point?

‘Aim true. That’s all I ask.’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Thrust, lever, lift and throw

Calum thrust the spade into the sod and turned it. Repeated the process to form a grave-sized hole, then stared at the stars until his sight blurred with tears.

He returned to his digging, working methodically – thrust, lever, lift, throw. A rhythm at a steady tempo, stopping only to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Once the edge reached his waist he clambered out and stretched.

The tears started again as he rolled the body in. He really didn’t want to kill her. She shouldn’t provoked him. Shouldn’t have …

He shovelled the soil back, the rhythm sapping his regret.

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

No way back

‘What do you think you’re playing at Ryan?’

‘What?’

‘Telling people that we’re dating?’

‘Well, you know … I was planning to …’

‘You’ve heard of consent, right? That both people have to agree? This is the same. You can’t just universally declare a relationship.’

‘I get that. Look, sorry Lorna, I got ahead of myself. Of us. But …’
There is no us, Ryan. There’s never going to be an us.’

‘I said I was sorry. Can we not just …’

‘No, we can’t. Respect and trust, Ryan. You’ve destroyed them both and there’s no way back from that.’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

The slow reel

 Marie cast the line far out into the lake and started to reel it in slowly. The weather was on the cusp of turning, but that was fine; the rain would bring the fish to the surface. A few moments later, the first drops speckled the surface. Fifty yards to her right a doe and her calf broke the treeline, halting before cautiously edging to the water. The rain was pouring down now. Marie continued to reel the line, not caring whether it lured a fish. That was incidental to process. The deer disappeared into the forest leaving her alone.

 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Own goals

‘Why did you do that?’

‘What?’ Cassie checked her make-up in a compact mirror.

‘Throw yourself at Ryan,’ Lorna said. ‘You know that Sarah likes him. That she was …’

‘Because it’s fun.’

‘To hurt people?’

‘To see how they’ll react. She fled after one dance. Pathetic.’

‘More pathetic to chase attention by being a bitch.’

‘What?’

‘You need to find new friends, Cass,’ Jane said. ‘We’re done.’

‘Seriously? You can’t take a joke?’

‘You’re the joke.’

‘I’m the one going home with Ryan.’

‘You wish. He’s already left to find Sarah. Congratulations on a masterclass in scoring own goals.’

 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.