Week 211 Challenge
by 
Bunbry
|
Posted: Monday, July 14, 2008 Word Count: 99 |
Vagrant
He shuffles to the phone box, 20p in blackened fingers. His once good coat and shoes filthy. Neglected whiskers cover a face laced with thread veins, lank hair spills from a rotting hat. He deposits his precious coin. Tears threaten at this magical moment.
“Happy birthday Poppet, it's Daddy.”
Tarot
Elizabeth draws a card, looks concerned.
“How old is your daughter?”
“Seven,” says the young woman.
“Listen, you must be sure she can swim before her ninth birthday. Do you understand?”
The young woman pushes £30 into Elizabeth’s hand, rushing to leave.
Elizabeth smiles. That line always works.
He shuffles to the phone box, 20p in blackened fingers. His once good coat and shoes filthy. Neglected whiskers cover a face laced with thread veins, lank hair spills from a rotting hat. He deposits his precious coin. Tears threaten at this magical moment.
“Happy birthday Poppet, it's Daddy.”
Tarot
Elizabeth draws a card, looks concerned.
“How old is your daughter?”
“Seven,” says the young woman.
“Listen, you must be sure she can swim before her ninth birthday. Do you understand?”
The young woman pushes £30 into Elizabeth’s hand, rushing to leave.
Elizabeth smiles. That line always works.