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Soul Mates

Toby WHACKED his younger brother's backside with the oar. "I didn't eat your pudding!" said the red-faced, chocolate-lipped Louis. Despite his protests, Louis didn't cower from the punishment. In fact, he seemed to revel in it. With each resonating WHACK, his face twisted like a bunched shirt. But between the blows, when his eyes flickered open, there was something peculiar in them, something--WHACK! Children from the neighborhood drew nearer. Some stole glances from behind the maple trees. Some were bold enough to sit cross-legged on the grass in plain, unapologetic view. Toby snarled at the growing crowd. It wasn't the spectators that fueled his rage, but his younger brother's enjoyment. "Admit you ate my pudding, Louis! I know you did!" WHACK! WHACK! The onlookers, with their freckles and dirty knees, winced and grimaced when each fresh WHACK was delivered. Frustrated and ashamed, Toby tossed the oar aside. There was a collective, disappointed sigh from the crowd. Toby stomped off. Suddenly finding himself alone on the stage, Louis scrambled to the oar. He held it above his head, and smiled a dark chocolate pudding smile. "Who will punish me now?" he asked the blank faces before him. No one answered. So, with awkward determination, Louis began punishing himself. FHWAP! FHWAP! The angle at which he swung the oar to his backside muted the blows and had little effect. The crowd dispersed. Behind the maple, one girl remained with haunted eyes flickering peculiar. She giggled.

Story by:

Mel Bosworth

submitted at 5:31am

20 April 2009

Mel Bosworth's web:

eddiesocko.blogspot.com