By Bobby Warner
When he came in to supper, his wife seemed upset and stood with her back to him. She was a strong woman, and when she went with him to the fields, she did more work than he.
“Pests!” she said, referring he supposed to the youths from town who were plaguing the farmers with mischief. “They killed all of my laying hens, and I had to punish them!”
He turned to her, bloodstains on her dress, tears streaming down her face.
“Helen, what have you done?”
“I—” The wail of a siren cut her short. Someone knocked heavily on the door.
Brilliant.
fine example of ‘don’t tell’l
Indeed! We can only hope, Bobby. Well done.
Really like the sense of urgency you created, also great job on presenting the scene and allowing it to unfold- Well done!
Whoa! Packed a wallop. Good job, Bobby (except for the nightmares I will now have)!
Thanks to all for your favorable comments. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (and again and again): It’s comments like this that keep this writer writing! By the by: A lot of the credit for this being a successful story goes largely to the editor at 101Words, who worked with me to make the story a better one!
Good job! The story is well paced, it does not allow the reader to anticipate what is to come.