Thursday, July 12, 2007

Drifting

Harold waved to the passers-by, their oars dipping into the water against the heavy current. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

He was oblivious to the hard stares and the terse replies. He was happy to just lie back in the boat.

“More tea, Harold?” Jasfoup had brewed another pot in the bow. “I’ll have the bacon sandwiches ready in a minute.”

“Thanks, Jasfoup.” Harold sat up and accepted the cup. “Do you think the imps need refreshment?

Jasfoup looked over the side. “Nah,” he said to the panting faces. “They’re good for another ten miles.”

“Excellent” Harold sank back again and drifted gently upstream.

© Rachel Green 2007
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