(PHOTO CREDIT: MorgueFile May 2018 1421077743edokn)
The piercing shrill of the alarm clock jolted him out of a pleasant slumber. Lazily slapping the alarm button to cut out the shriek, he slowly tumbled out of bed, stood and stretched both his arms upwards, all the while yawning with a mouth agape. It was Thursday. A day of fisticuffs, battered containers and broken bones. Thursday was also the only day in the week where the community bore-well spluttered into life coughing up water.
Some inexplicable combination of ground water non-cooperation coupled with the perfectly understandable intransigence of the local municipal council contrived to create a unique situation where the hand operated bore came to life only once every 7 days and that day was Thursday. Hence on every Thursday, amicability transformed to animosity, friends turned foes and neighbours turned nasty!
To avoid beating up his nearest competitor & get beaten, he had decided to rise earlier than everyone and take his rusty iron container to the bore well. As he slowly trudged towards his destination in the dark, he could already hear the flow of water & the working of the bore.
There would be a fight after all!
(WORD COUNT: 192)
This story has been written as part of the FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #34 Photo Prompt, more details about which may be found HERE
The photo credit is due to PHMorgueFile May 2018 1421077743edokn