“What this doing outside?”

Cath and Andrea had just moved house. Outside the side door on a narrow strip of cement running the length of the building was a box of papers belonging to Andrea.

“You need to sort it before it comes inside,” said Cath.

Andrea pouted. “What if it rains?”

“Best get to it, then, sweetie.”

Andrea sat on the box for a few minutes. “Bloody hell!”

Then she lifted it up and took it to the back garden. There was a 44-gallon drum there. She tossed most of the papers into the drum, doused them with cigarette lighter fuel, set a match to them, and watched them burn.

Her early literary efforts went up in flames, apart from one of two sheets of paper. She figured that she had sorted those papers pretty well. Done!

©2019 Allison Wright
[140 words]