As I walk I notice a horse trotting on the farm. The farm boy was running away, jumping over a fence. I squinted and I saw an unconscious figure on the ground. It struck me that this was the local postman and his horse. With roads like the ones in our village, it made sense to use a horse to deliver the post. Help was on its way as the farm boy ran in the direction of the local hospital.
Today’s prompt: write this story(the first paragraph is already provided) in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.
Today’s twist: Build this twelve-year-old as a character.
The neighbourhood has seen better days for Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone remembered. She raised a family of six boys, who’d all grown up and moved away. Mr. Pauley had passed away three months ago. With no source of income, she fell back on her rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police came to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.
Or so they say. It could even be more. I never knew them personally, save two reasons. My dad used to work with Mr. Pauley. And I used to live with them.
A disclaimer: This is a purely fictional post. Partly inspired from Hamlet, though. Any other similarity with characters living, dead or created would simply be co-incidental. Point Included Later: And this is the first part of the series. The links to the next parts can be found below.
Thoughts of suicide have been haunting me for quite some time. Actually, I’ve been bringing those thoughts inside my head. Ever since I was framed for fraudulent practice in my institution. I have always been a high flier. But jealousy probably made her accuse me and get me debarred from the university.