This is today’s Friday Fictioneers submission. This month, I’ve been focussing on Nanowrimo so instead of coming up with a proper story, I offer this piece of lightly fictionalised memoir (for fact fans, in real life, the cause of the dispute was a scented eraser). For non-UK based readers, a precinct is like a mall with more litter.
Thanks to Rochelle for the picture.
Stevie looks around. He’s a big boy now, six in the autumn but he’d never felt smaller. The people walked past, not paying him any attention. It felt a bit like when he’d waded into the sea at Bridlington. Except he’d had has dad with him then. Today, he’s on his own.
He wishes he’d never thrown that tantrum. He wishes he hadn’t run out of the shop, but they’d said they’d buy him a toy and they didn’t. Most of all, he wishes his parents were with him.
It’s getting dark now and he doesn’t know what to do. Dad said if he got lost, he should ask a policeman but Mum told him he should never talk to strangers. He can’t see one anyway. He’s lost and starts to cry.
And then he sees them. There’s a look on his mum’s face. He doesn’t understand it, but when she hugs him he knows it’s going to be alright.