Douglas O’Malley – Dead Deer

Douglas O’Malley

Solidly, he walked along the boardwalk without finding any of the sidestreets he was hoping to slip down. The breeze was picking up and began to bite through his woollen cardigan. She had been a bit lost when she asked him for the favour and was pleased to be able to assist in some small way.

This, of course, was bought him on this futile trek through the city. Meanwhile she was preparing the stalls without any idea that he was failing her. She had assumed that when he agreed to take it on it was as good as done. His incompetence had the certainty and bulk of an African elephant, but he oozed the settled confidence of a casino owner, and this had carried him through.

Finally he turned and trudged wearily home. Another failed project he convinced himself was a success.

TodayI wrote between 23:41  and 23:51. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, my tweets here, and my book here.

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