I didn’t slam the door on my way out. I stuffed salt and vinegar crisps and a choc bar into my jacket pockets as discretely as possible, and wrapped a warm wooly scarf around my neck.
I needed to get away without detection. When I turned the corner of the street I stopped and took a gulp of air.
I needed a better hiding place. I was improving with practice. The last time I managed until the sun had set, but my tummy sent me looking for something and they’d found me outside the corner shop.
This time I had food and most of my pocket money. I intended to save it all, but the need for sweets …
I was headed for those strange caves with windows in the hills. Someone had said they were remnants from wartime. Maybe they had beds?
I was a caped crusader, dodging in and out of the streetlight’s shadows unaware of the danger.
They caught me in a pincer movement.
Dad blocked the way and Mum scooped me up from behind.
Mum cried, “Danny, I was so worried …”
Dad just scowled.
I guess I was grounded again.
Thanks to © A Mixed Bag, 2010 for the photo prompt.
Here are the ‘rules’
The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story / poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide. It doesn’t have to be centre stage in the story, I have seen some where the placement is so subtle, the writer states where it is.