Shortcut to: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
|She felt a surge of pride in her present as her father opened its door, waved |
back the thick smoke and removed the blackened lump of charcoal from within.
illustration by Spotty Dog Rosie
When Zena came back downstairs her parents were in the kitchen discussing her present.
"Can't you get the damn thing to work?" demanded her mother of her father.
"Of course I can! There must be something wrong with it, that's all. Yes, that's it. It's faulty. I'll call the repair man right away."
Faulty? thought Zena. What rubbish! There's nothing wrong with it. She smiled at her new possession and, although it had no mouth with which to do so, she knew it was smiling back at her.
Her father suddenly noticed her standing there. "Here's the shopping list," he said irritably, shoving a piece of paper and some money into Zena's hand. "And don't forget the change!"
Zena skipped down the road, greeting passers-by as she went.
"Bing!" she said to her neighbour, Mrs Buckley.
"Oh!" replied Mrs Buckley. "I'm sorry dear, what did you say?"
"Bing!" she said to old Mr Reynolds.
"Pardon, child?" replied Mr Reynolds, cupping his hand around his ear.
"Bing!" she said to a policeman.
"Morning, Miss!" replied the policeman whilst handcuffing a suspected bicycle thief.
"Bing!" she said to the bicycle thief.
But the bicycle thief didn't hear her. He was too busy comtemplating the consequences that his life of crime had brought down upon him.
To be continued...
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