Thursday, April 14, 2011


Written for the Writing Lines Spring 2011 Drabble Challenge


"I'm just saying, reality is not her friend."


"A hundred bucks a head? No one will pay that for some crap spumante, limp sandwiches and the honour of meeting an ageing footballer and his bit of stuff; I don't care if it is for charity."

"Yeah. Shame that."

Tim put down the dish he was drying and looked at Rob.

"Do you even have a clue what I just said to you?"

Rob's mouth worked as he struggled to respond.


Twisting the tea towel, Tim flicked him across the back of the leg. "Doesn't work for you, either."

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