‘What’s that old joke?’ Mary asked. ‘You know, one of those elephant jokes from aeons ago.’
Sally raised her head from painting her toenails bright pink ahead of the hotel’s pool party.
‘Give us a clue.’ She grinned. ‘There were a thousand elephant jokes.’
Mary turned from the mirror and pointed at Sally’s self ministrations. ‘It’s relevant, something to do with–’
‘Oh yes!’ Sally’s grin widened. ‘How does an elephant hide in a strawberry patch?’
‘He paints his toenails red!’ they squealed together and fell into giggles.
‘It’s going to be a fantastic evening, I feel it in my bones,’ Mary spluttered. She returned to the mirror, face serious, waving the moisturiser. ‘Think this’ll scare my saggy baggy elephant wrinkles into hiding too?’ And collapsed into laughter once more.
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Find Cheryl’s flash fiction and short stories, including audio versions of some, here!
Young Harry was hiding. He had found a fantastic place under the stairs where he thought no one would ever find him.
Hiding was not something Harry normally did, but this particular morning he had an altercation with his mother and, absolutely miffed, decided to find a hiding place where he couldn’t be found while he plotted his next move.
Harry didn’t think he was being unreasonable in his request for a mobile phone. After all, all the other kids had one and, like them, he loved playing the games it offered.
However, his mother had baulked at the idea.
“You are only seven,” she explained, “too young to have your own phone. Wait until you are older and can handle the responsibility.”
But Harry didn’t want to wait. Responsibility was not a word he readily understood. All he could see was the laughing stock he would become when he turned up to school minus his own version of their latest play toy.
To Harry, this was worse than death itself so, sitting there cooling his heels, he came up with a plan. He would pinch Mum’s. She hardly ever used it so would probably never notice.
Stealthily, Harry returned to the kitchen where Mum was totally preoccupied preparing the evening meal.
He spotted her bag on the table and, quietly removing it, headed back to his hiding spot.
It didn’t take long for him to find the phone. Its bright pink cover shone luminously in the darkness.
Harry took the phone from the bag and pressed the on button. Grinning gleefully, he now knew he would be able to play all the same games as his friends.
Suddenly, the stair door opened – the light from the hallway catching Harry in its reflection.
“And just what do you think you are doing with my bag and phone, young man,” his mother’s stern voice inquired.
“Ppplaying games,” stammered Harry, crestfallen at being caught.
“Is that so,” Mum replied. “Well, not on my phone you’re not. Now go to your room and find a good book to read until I call you for dinner. And you can forget about your own mobile until I say you are good and ready for one.”
Harry slunk to his room, thoroughly annoyed that, not only had his best plans been unmasked, but he would never again be able to face his schoolmates.
Poor Harry – no one to whisk him off from under the stairs to magic school to hide his shame!
Is this a dance for oldies or all ages (LOL)
Who knows!