Winni’s Visit

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There was definitely an elephant in the room, and rather than risking Winni flying off the handle, as she so often did, it seemed sensible to give the matter of her now three month long “weekend” visit a wide berth.

When she first arrived at her sister’s door, a hastily gathered shopping bag of belongings at her feet, it was easy for Susan to bury the hatchet of their teenaged squabbles and to comfort her grieving sibling.   Susan had never thought much of Winni’s boyfriend Roger.  He was a waste of space:  he was a bit of a peacock – always strutting his stuff, and he was penny pinching as well.  Surely he was at fault.

But three months on, the curtain was being drawn open.  It was Winni that seemed to be perpetually going off half cocked.  And the lounge which she had transformed into her “bedroom” was a bomb site.

Susan thought about for a few moments and then decided that a few more days wouldn’t break the bank.  She shrugged and left the room.  After all why rock the boat?



Saturday Mix – Mad About Metaphor, 20 July 2019: Give a wide berth.

“So -Why?”


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“So – Why should I help you? You got yourself in there,” his older sister responded.

“But, I thought there might be treasure or something,” he pleaded.

“Look Bryan, its a museum.  Don’t you think if there was any treasure down there that they would have gotten it out already?  Besides, the sign says, ‘Please do not climb on the exhibits’.”

“But I didn’t climb ‘on,’ I climbed down!” he observed in an attempt to justify himself.

“Whatever,” Margaret said dismissively, rolling her eyes.  “Why in the world would anyone want a twelve-year-old brother?” she thought to herself.

“Margaret! Are you still out there?” Bryan whimpered as he became concerned that she hadn’t spoken for a minute or two.

“What a chance,” she thought to herself with a smirk.  She then sat down just out of sight of the hole.  She then texted some of her friends about her “stupid little brother” and sent a photo of the hole.  Then satisfied that he had suffered “almost enough,” she stood up and reached in to help the teary-eyed boy out.


Haunted Wordsmith’s Story Starter: “Help!”