Bad ball

Steve drifted awake and brushed sand from his face.  He opened his eyes and glanced to his left. 

A sand castle was half built and abandoned. 

He sat up and scanned the wide beach, but there was no sign of Jack. 

Panic rising, he clambered to his feet.  Off to his right a beach ball bobbed between sets of breaking waves.  He started to run, yelling his son’s name. 

Reacting to the fearful cries a teenager splashed through green-grey water and scooped up a young boy.

Steve arrived gulping in air.

‘Bad ball,’ Jack said, oblivious to his father’s distress.





A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words