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Ingrid sat on the brick wall of the bomb site her hands in her lap her untidy hair held in place with wire grips the plain grey cardigan and dress had food stains here and there you sat beside her in jeans and bought for you cowboy shirt the Saturday film matinée just seen suppose I'd best be home Ingrid said before Dad gets back he doesn't know I went to the pictures and he'll say it's a waste of money but it's only 6d you said surely he wouldn't begrudge you that? she said nothing but stood up and brushed down her dress best go she said wait a while you said let's buy some chips before you leave I've no more money she said I have you replied patting your jean's pocket ********* the 6 shooter toy gun hanging at your waist best not she said if Dad sees me he'll go off the deep end she stood there half undecided chips with salt and vinegar and maybe an onion or two you added giving her a look your head to one side she bit her lip as she fingered her cardigan but Mum said not to be late Ingrid said sometimes they throw in a slice of bread and butter you said especially for kids if you give them I'm starved look she smiled her hands going into the cardigan pockets what if he sees me go in there? she said he won't you said he couldn't see the end of his nose without getting dizzy you said anyway he might not be back until later she shrugged and then said ok if we're quick and so you stood up and walked her up Meadow Row and across the road to the fish and chip shop and bought 2 bags of chips and onions and 2 slices of bread and butter because you both gave that we're starved gaze you walked her back down Meadow Row eating in silence she eating ravenously her fingers busy her mouth opening and closing once you'd finished and you'd stuffed the waste chip papers into a bin by the grocer's shop she said thank you that was scrumptious and she kissed your cheek and walked off and across Rockingham Street towards the Square at the top by the entrance with arms crossed grim face Ingrid's father stood scowling standing there.
0
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
THE COST OF A BAG OF CHIPS.
Ingrid sat on the brick wall of the bomb site her hands in her lap her untidy hair held in place with wire grips the plain grey cardigan and dress had food stains here and there you sat beside her in jeans and bought for you cowboy shirt the Saturday film matinée just seen suppose I'd best be home Ingrid said before Dad gets back he doesn't know I went to the pictures and he'll say it's a waste of money but it's only 6d you said surely he wouldn't begrudge you that? she said nothing but stood up and brushed down her dress best go she said wait a while you said let's buy some chips before you leave I've no more money she said I have you replied patting your jean's pocket ********* the 6 shooter toy gun hanging at your waist best not she said if Dad sees me he'll go off the deep end she stood there half undecided chips with salt and vinegar and maybe an onion or two you added giving her a look your head to one side she bit her lip as she fingered her cardigan but Mum said not to be late Ingrid said sometimes they throw in a slice of bread and butter you said especially for kids if you give them I'm starved look she smiled her hands going into the cardigan pockets what if he sees me go in there? she said he won't you said he couldn't see the end of his nose without getting dizzy you said anyway he might not be back until later she shrugged and then said ok if we're quick and so you stood up and walked her up Meadow Row and across the road to the fish and chip shop and bought 2 bags of chips and onions and 2 slices of bread and butter because you both gave that we're starved gaze you walked her back down Meadow Row eating in silence she eating ravenously her fingers busy her mouth opening and closing once you'd finished and you'd stuffed the waste chip papers into a bin by the grocer's shop she said thank you that was scrumptious and she kissed your cheek and walked off and across Rockingham Street towards the Square at the top by the entrance with arms crossed grim face Ingrid's father stood scowling standing there.
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
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