Message in a Rock

The crunch of gravel and the crash of the front door.

"Go and show your Mum," he says.

"Mum, mummy, look what we found at the beach!"

I rest my book on the arm of the sofa and resign my peace to the scrap-heap.

Tom bursts in, still wrapped in his blue overcoat and smelling of fresh air. In his hand is a rock, smoothed like a skimming stone but too big. I'm surprised he can hold it in one hand.

"What is it, darling? Come on, take your coat off and tell me."

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)