His eyes drifted slowly back into focus.
‘Hello? Welcome back!’
‘What?’
‘From whatever story you’re writing in your head.’
‘What story?’
‘The fantasy you we’re just dreaming up.’
‘I wasn’t dreaming anything.’
‘You’re always cooking up something. I was saying that we need to get milk. And bread.’
He nods his head, his eyes starting to re-glaze over.
‘Rob! This is real life. It only happens once; you don’t get to re-live it. You can replay or re-join whatever nonsense is going on in your head anytime.’
‘What?’
‘What’s for dinner? You’re making it.’
‘Dinner?’
‘Hello? Real life calling Rob.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
2 comments:
Rob - Oh this is excellent! I know exactly what that feeling is of being dragged back to making dinner, buying milk and all the rest of it. Well done!
HA! U gave been there.
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