As Wimbledon’s on, here is a little flash story I wrote a while ago. Imagine it narrated by your favourite tennis commentator!
‘Get out of the way, Marnie!’ Dylan shouts, pointing his racket at her.
‘I want to plaaaaaaayyy…’ Marnie whines, Bambi eyes pleading.
‘No. You’re too small. You’ll probably hurt yourself, and then I’ll get in trouble. Now move!’
Marnie lifts her chin from the net, and scuffs her feet along the asphalt.
‘Oh come on, Dylan, let her have a go.’ James uncurls himself from the chicken wire fence.
‘She’ll spoil it,’ Dylan’s lip curls.
‘Spoil what? It’s only a game. You’re not scared, are you?’ James smiles at Marnie, who springs back to the net beaming.
‘Here,’ James hands his racket to Marnie. Her plump little arm sinks with the weight.
‘Ha! You can’t even lift it! Look at the way she’s holding it!’
James takes the racket back and holds it out again. ‘Pretend you’re shaking hands with it.’ Marnie pumps the racket as if she is greeting Andy Murray. ‘That’s it!’
Dylan throws the ball high and smashes it into the net. ‘Second service!’ calls James. ‘He gets another go,’ he whispers to Marnie.
The ball sails into the chicken wire. ‘Out!’
Dylan’s shot bounces just in front of Marnie, and she swings at it.
The sweet spot sings.
The ball whips over the net and Dylan falls to his knees, clutching at the pain. Marnie laughs in shocked delight, and pats her racket.
Game, set and match to Marnie. New balls, please.
If you enjoyed that, this story and 67 others are available in a collection, Bitesize. The book is available on Amazon, OR you can download it for free when you sign up to my newsletter. Happy reading!
The featured image is Tennis by PughPugh, and is shared under Creative Commons license 2.0.