Eight — Micro Chapter 5

Test Cover 2

I’ve decided to add another chapter on a Wednesday, too. So that’s three posts a week. Hope I’m not pushing my luck here! I’ve also added a different cover. As I won’t be able to afford a cover artist, I’m doing it myself. I’m currently working on a different one, but I’d like to get your thoughts on the first two, if you wouldn’t mind participating, of course.

Eight

Part 1. Micro Chp. 5

We reached the crossroads in silence and stopped. I looked around clumsily, trying not to make eye contact. While Craig scuffed at a dried cowpat with his gleaming white hi-tops. He must be angry with me, I thought. He’d never dirty his priced possessions like that otherwise.

“So. Battleground-Zero tonight. Seven-thirty?” I said, still not looking at him, almost feeling the heat radiating from his red face.

“Fine. I’m captain this time, though,” he said, giving the cowpat one last kick and walked away.

I watched as he stomped off, shoulders slumped, still scuffing the ground as he went.

“See you online then,” I shouted at him, and headed off in the opposite direction.

After maybe ten steps or so, I noticed the unlit street lamps. I checked my watch for the time, wondering why they weren‘t on.

“Crap.” The face had smashed. I gave it a shake, fragments of glass fell away and then I held it to my ear. “Dead, that’s great.” Good job I’d left my phone at home today.

I shoved my sleeve back down and carried on walking; hoping my dad wouldn’t be angry because I’d broken the watch, praying the power would be back on and working by seven-thirty.

“No, it’ll be fine,” I told myself.

My dad would understand. Anyway, more importantly, no way could I miss my gaming session tonight. Sully needed a few kills to crack his mood. I’d let him win of course, if not I’d never hear the end of it. But hoping wouldn‘t help me, or him. If it didn’t come back on, he’d be in a right arse tomorrow.

I blew on my hands and shoved them back in my pockets, pleading, promising I’d never ask for anything ever again. Just let there be power, I thought.

Copyright © by Sarah Neeve

Eight, may not be copied, shared or unlawfully used without the prior consent of the author.