Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
I have to confess that, due to no shortcoming in today’s topical photo, I am re-running an old post.
I have had three different ideas for stories, and have failed to make any of them work.
What can I say.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
Life in South Africa five decades ago is quite different from the 21st Century.
There is no television.
Even Science Fiction has not invented video games.
Giants such as Orwell, Huxley, Bradbury cannot conceive such things.
Entertainment is home made.
But it is Christmas.
Hands trembling, I unwrap the long thin parcel.
My heart leaps.
A real bow, not a stick with a string on it.
A bow of polished wood, a shaped hand grip, coloured cord.
And arrows, sleek and shiny.
For a pre-teen boy, it is a gift from the gods.
My father follows me outside, smiling, laughing as I fumble with the string and the arrow’s notch.
Let me show you, he says.
I am disappointed, but I worship my father.
I hand over my treasure, reluctant but obedient.
My father, an engineer, a powerful man, extends the string fully.
The bow snaps.
Christmas is over.
I never again feel quite the same about my father.