Saturday, September 17, 2011

Leaving home

‘You’ll phone when you get there?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry.’

‘And someone’s going to meet you at the airport?’

‘Ma, we’ve been through this. I’ll be fine. Gary said he knows someone who’ll be able to get us a job.’

She pulls a tight smile.

‘Look, I better go. I need to get through security.’

She steps closer and draws him into a hug. ‘Ring me, okay?’

‘Ma, you’re like a broken record.’

She pulls back, tears edging down her cheeks.

‘Look after yourself, son,’ his father says woodenly, holding out a hand. ‘Don’t get mixed up in anything stupid.’


A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

2 comments:

Margot Kinberg said...

Rob - I like it! You convey very well that moment when parents let their children go, so to speak. I also see this as the beginning of what could be quite a good story.

Dorte H said...

That single word ´woodenly´ adds a lot of tension.