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."





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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. :)