“There is a tree in my foot.” my sister said; hobbling in the doorway and making for the first aid box.
“What happened?” I asked, hand hovering over the T.V’s mute button as I turned towards the kitchen.
“I was attacked!” she grumbled. “The ground attacked me!”
“Oh really?” I said. “I don’t suppose your bike was the one to start it all?”
There was no answer.
“I mean really—”
I stood in the doorway; her holding the first aid box in both hands.
“That won’t be much help.” I said at last. “I’ll get the pruning shears from the shed.”
Funny! Good dialogue, characterisation, plot.
Thank you. I will admit, the first line is actually what my sister said when she came in from a bike ride the other day. It took her a week to get the splinter out of her foot.
It certainly wasn’t Bob that did that. He’s a peaceful tree!
I’m very glad to hear so. 😀
Haha!
I’m glad that you found this amusing.:)
Hi Carol,
That’s a major splinter, a log. Good dialog and interaction between the characters. Ron
Thank you very much.
It’s amazing the way even at tiny splinter can feel like a big section of a tree and yet be so difficult to get out, although I tend towards tweezers, rather than pruning shears. However, my splinters have obviously not been as serious as that of your sister. 🙂
janet
Crisp funny ending. Nicely done.
Thank you.
Pan faced at an unlikely occurrence! Well done.
Thank you. 🙂
Terrific stuff, hugely amusing!
Thank you.
[…] trick that my dad taught my sister and I, and my family often crop up in odd little stories such as Bike Ride Foliage since everyone I’m related to seems to have a tendency towards strange, quite often funny […]