Chapter 2 of my short story Survival of the Fittest. To read Chapter 1, click on the category link ‘Survival of the Fittest’
Haven’t read Chapter 1 yet, Click Here!
The next week or so seemed to go from bad to worse. We were told by work to come to the building every working day. If the power came back on then it would be business as usual. If not, they would take a register of who had attended and that would reflect in our pay slip when things went back to normal. At first, the vast majority attended only to be turned away once their names were taken. Keep on reading
This is a short story about how I imagine what my son would think if we came home with another baby. Being an only child who receives 100% attention, I can only imagine what it would be like to no longer be the centre of attention. Anyway I hope you enjoy this little story of mine.
Since breakfast I have been playing Jenga with my Grampy whilst Nanny sits in her favourite armchair cheering me on. We have built a tower so high that we are going to have to yell timber when it starts to fall.
It’s my turn now. After prodding every brick, I pull a block from the tower, shaking with excitement to the silly sounds of Grampy going ‘Oh! Woah! It’s going to fall!’ Followed by Nanny hitting him with a cushion whilst telling him off. The block is free! I cannot stop the smile from spreading across my face as I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I gingerly move the block to the top of the tower, getting to my feet when we hear an irritating screeching sound, like when Mrs Peters runs her finger nails down the chalk board from outside the house. Keep on reading!
No one knows what started all this. I mean, we know what cause Britain to go dark, but no one knows who was behind it and how they executed their plan. Some people think it was ISIS, others thought it was the Taliban, some crazy fool was convinced that it was a Neo-Nazi cell and Hitler was actually alive, orchestrating the whole thing. To be honest, I didn’t care who started it. Whoever wanted this to happen would have had to be highly trained, highly motivated and heavily finance to achieve such an evil act. Keep on reading!
A lady is sat on a bench. Her face is raised, eyes closed, catching some rays. A man approaches the lady. “Excuse me madam, is this seat taken?” He asks in a friendly manner.
“You can sit here for a while, however I am saving this seat for my husband, Bobby, he’s just gone to park the car and will be back any minute.” The man takes a seat and reaches into his pocket taking out a couple of sandwiches wrapped in foil. Keep on reading!
Am I imagining this? Its 3am which means I thankfully have another three and half hours before I need to get up for work. But what is that sound? I press the snooze button on my alarm clock and check my phone to see if my son has somehow changed my alarm tone, but there’s nothing.
Why is there an ice cream van roaming the streets at night? Keep on reading!
I’ve heard of this place at the heart of the city that could turn the slightest potential of good fortune into an unmeasurable amount of possibilities for the individual. The location is centred in the middle of a derelict council estate surrounded by an undesirable population suffering from addiction, mental health and physical disabilities. When I was told about this place, I was skeptical. I couldn’t believe that this place existed. But the temptation to improve my social well-being which had been steadily declining after an absurd decision to quit my job to foolishly pursue an acting career, forced me to consider even the smallest reasons for its location. Because if this building was placed in the middle of Oxford Street in London. You would see queues out the door 24/7. Keep on reading!