George lifted the mallet and brought it down on top of the post with a solid thump. In the distance a dog barked in reply. He repeated the action until the post was firmly anchored in the clay soil, then stared across the valley at the approaching dark clouds. It would be raining soon and he still had half the length of the field to fence. He tacked on the wire and as the first drops fell strolled to his battered jeep. Gazing vacantly out the windscreen he sipped tea from a thermos and waited for the rain to pass.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
You set the physical scene very effectively here, Rob - thanks for this.
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