The Game

“It’s your turn.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re new.”

New? He’d lived here for ten years. Yet, he supposed he’d never really made an effort to get to know the neighbours. Not really. Not at all, in fact. He didn’t know any of these people. Hell, he wouldn’t recognise them if he passed them in the street. 

He wouldn’t have been here tonight either, if the invitation hadn’t been so intriguing. And if he’d not been suffering from writer’s block. It had been six weeks and he’d not written a word; not opened his laptop even.

They were looking at him, expectantly and he felt the need, suddenly, to apologise.

“I’m sorry I’ve never really made the effort to get to know any of you. I’ve lived here 10 years and probably kept myself to myself too much. It’s the work you see. It does that to you.”

The attractive young lady who’d sat herself opposite him, smiled reassuringly. “Please don’t worry. Everyone has busy lives; no-one really has time to look out for one another normally. And to be honest, we’re not the most sociable neighbourhood. Not since the accident.”

Oh, yes, the accident. Ten years ago, a forest fire had spread into town and destroyed many of the hou...

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Rod Webb
Oct 31 2020

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Comments:

Intriguing with a clever twist at the end

Janette Ostle
Nov 1 2020