Writing Promptly 2

I have decided to share some of the micro stories that I have furiously scribbled down, in response to writing prompts, with you. I hope this will encourage you to have a go yourself but I also wanted a way of giving these little tales a chance to live, however briefly.

The challenge for this next story was to take a recent piece of news and write as though you were someone caught up in the events. I chose a piece of local news about a lightning strike on a building in Rayleigh High Road, which closed the road for hours and caused chaos locally. Please remember this story was written under time pressure so does not represent my ‘best work’, it’s just a bit of masochistic fun which I’ve decided to share.

The Story
“You will not believe the day I’ve had,” Sylvie called as she finally lugged her bags wearily across the threshold. My meeting was moved to Chelmsford, but, of course, no-one thought to let me know, so I had to go tearing up the A130 as soon as I got in, and you know the Army and Navy roundabout is full of road works. I tried to cut up through Great Baddow but then I got stuck behind one of the flat-cap and pipe brigade doing three miles an hour! Mike?”
Sylvie stopped and listened to the silence that met her. Sulking is so childish, she thought. She glanced at her watch and kicked off her shoes.
“I’ll jump in the shower – we won’t hiss much of the party.” She apologised.
She made a quick search of downstairs, continuing her tale of woe; trying to excuse her extreme lateness.
“The meeting went on for hours – it was so dull, I struggled to stay awake. Then on the way home I had to cut through Rayleigh because the roundabout was flooded, I was making really good time though, then, just as I got to the top of Crown Hill, there was an almighty bang and a huge flash. I swear the car almost jumped off the road. Then, suddenly it was raining huge lumps of brickwork. I thought a bomb had gone off, or something.”
She made her way upstairs.
“The road was completely covered in rubble. Thank fully the police station is just across the road there so they were soon on the scene. They closed the road. I couldn’t get through, and it would have to be the one day I leave my phone at home, wouldn’t it! Mike? Are you home?” The lack of response was beginning to bother her now.
“Mike!” she called as she walked into their room.
She stopped and stared at the scene in front of her. Her brain unable to comprehend what it was seeing. His drawers in the chest stood open and empty, the wardrobe door hung gapping, screaming “He’s gone!” with a mouthful of empty hangers.
She glanced down and an envelope, addressed to her, on the bed caught her eye. She grabbed it and tore it open, resigned to its contents.

You couldn’t even bother to call with your excuses this time. I’ve had enough. I’m going to celebrate my birthday, my way with my mates, and I won’t be back.

If you liked my little tale and want to find out more about my writing you can follow me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hellen-Riebolds-Author-Page/530521043655534 or take a look at my website: http://www.hellenriebold.com/