Drabble #98

Harking back to an earlier era but still relevent today me thinks...They said he fought bravely. He died a hero’s death.A nice letter from his CO stated that he was ‘well respected and thought of’ by the whole unit.A credit to his country.An inspiration.They would all miss him.But to his mother none of this mattered.They weren’t talking about the child she knew.The little boy with skinned knees and biscuit crumbs around his mouth.proudly presenting her with a homemade Mother’s Day card.The little boy with hot, sweet breath who whispered ‘I love you Mummy’ each night as she tucked him into his bed.

Proof if ever it was needed...

...of where I get my love of the moribund from.I happened to mention to my mother a few months back that I had been writing some drabbles.It obviously fired her imagination (plus I think the challenge of 100 words appealed to her) as she proudly announced the other day that she had written one. Except that she *insists* on calling it a 'dribble'!Dutifully she typed it up for me and then sent it to me snail-mail - despite me having set her up a hotmail account and them having Outlook on their PC. Oh well... 'powoli, powoli' as my Polish tutor used to say...Anyhow...I now present the evidence...The boy awoke, he looked around the cave with unseeing eyes. The dog had died in the night, finally overcome by fatigue and relentless cold.The boy nuzzled his face into the matted fur and wept. ‘Its over then'. He said.He dragged his grotesque body to the entrance of the cave, his twisted fingers feeling the cold stone. Unbearable pain gripped his deformed body. The sea was closer now, he could feel the icy spray. Onwards he crawled, oblivious to the cold. For one miraculous moment he saw an intense light beckoning him onwards. ‘Its finally over.’ He said.p.s. Of course there is a post from me to come regarding the outbreak of war but more of that later...