Friday, 8 November 2013

Response 5: Long shot

"Pete! What are the odds?"

It did seem like a long shot that we should meet right here, after all this time.

A summer's day, long ago - laughter and booze and ridiculous bets. The stable blocks were away from the course but smelled of horse piss so we found a barn. Piles of hay and items made of leather that I could only guess the use of. We found a use though..... yes, well.

I never saw her again, until now. A woman standing where once there was a girl.

She leaned in, a little too close, holding my arm. The smell of cheap bubbly and fags on her breath. Too much make-up, but I could see the flaws she was trying to hide. She hiccupped, belched a little, and giggled.

"Sorry. It's hardly Ascot, is it? Really though Pete - what are the chances?"


"Pretty slim, I'd say."

2 comments:

  1. It’s strange when you think back to some of the things you thought were acceptable in your youth. Never mind slim chance, no chance I’d say!

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