Poems, Quotes, Story Pieces and Other Writing Nonsense

Fragile

This is a short story I wrote for this competition. I doubt it'll win, but I tried my best. The title was set so I came up with a slightly odd idea to write about. Please feel free to tell me what you think.

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Fragile

"Just... stay there, Teg. Norma'll be here soon."

"But I want to go with you!"

"But you can't. Have a great day, anyway."

"It's difficult to have a great day when you're stuck with nothing but a charity nurse."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. She's great. Quit the moaning. Now, love you, I've got to go."

She stood up from the tired wicker chair and kissed her disgruntled son on his pale forehead. She left the room, pulling the door closed behind her, but she opened it up almost as soon as she had closed it. Her young, pretty face came back into view as her head peered through the door.

"Stay," she commanded with a smile and sarcastic, raised eyebrows.

"Bye, Mum."

The bedroom door closed again and Tegwyn heard footsteps grow fainter. He heard the front door slam and he pictured her glancing at her watch and cursing it. He imagined her short, blonde ponytail swish angrily as she put herself into the Land Rover. He could just see her blue cardigan sleeves being rolled up and her black trousers creasing at the knees as she sat down in the driver's seat. He imagined the keys being turned, listened to the engine revving and mentally viewed her foot on the accelerator as she sped off, taking work stress and time limits with her.

He lay there, in his blue pyjamas, staring at the white ceiling. The duvet was growing hot on his feet and he began to slowly ease them out. There. Better. His feet poked out of the skyscraper covers and his toes stood there and stared at him, like little children at an elephant in a zoo.

He glanced away and returned to the paper ceiling.

He heard keys rattle, the door open, and a clatter. Norma's inevitable arrival had come. He caught some muffled words being said, which he believed were aimed at the plant pot that she'd knocked over again.

The door closed and a few moments later he heard her trundle up the stairs. His bedroom door opened and a clumsy, bubble atmosphere came in with it.

"Hey, paper boy," her American accent smirked with her round face.

"Mornin', Norma. Plant pot again?" He let out a small laugh. They always joked like this.

"Oh shut it, you."

The wicker chair creaked as she sat down on it. She grabbed a strand of her curly, dark pinkish-red hair and started to play with it.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Better. Not as tired or in as much pain as yesterday, but still annoyed. They still won't let me go, but Dad promised he'd take me to the moon for my birthday. He's an astronaut, Mum works at NASA too; I don't see what the problem is."

"I do. Look, Teg, they're only keeping you alive. With osteoporosis, you'll probably shatter into a million pieces if you bump into something up there. You can't blame them."

Teg sighed. His sorry, bored self knew she was right. Well, despite her clumsiness, Norma had graduated with a Masters in medical science for a reason.

"One day, squirt. One day."

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Norma was right again.