Saturday, June 6, 2015


‘Jim!’ The factory foreman shouted.  ‘You’re back!  How’s the hand?’

The thump of a dozen cutting machines died to a loud hum.

‘Grand!  The stump is healing up nicely.’

The operatives gathered round, slapping his back and quizzing him.

After five minutes, the foreman shouted.  ‘Okay, folks, showtime’s over.’

As they headed back to their machines he took Jim over to his machine.

‘The insurance company wants to know exactly what you did?’

‘I was pointing at this gizmo and the blade dropped ...’

The thunk was followed by a loud scream.

‘Pity it wasn’t your head,’ the foreman muttered.

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oh, those last lines are priceless, Rob! Brilliant, dark wit. Well done indeed!