Mist filled the yard like a giant pool of bubble bath. Only the roofs of the outhouses were visible.
‘Bruno?’
The dog didn’t reply.
‘You okay, boy?’
George stepped away from the door, disappearing into the fog.
Something clattered to the cobbles away to his left.
‘Hello?’
He inched towards the old stables, a faint scrabbling ahead.
‘Who’s there?’
‘Is everything okay, George?’
‘Shut the door and lock it,’ he called back.
‘George?’
Something lay on the ground ahead.
‘Bruno?’
Foam ringed the old dog’s mouth, a foot pawing the handle of a spade.
In the field a cow bawled.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
This is really atmospheric, Rob. The imagery is done very well, in my opinion.
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