First of all, Happy Birthday, Pippa!
Okay, folks, onto this week's SFFSat offering. This is from a short piece I wrote when I didn't have access to the internet. If you want, you can read the entire thing (it's only a couple of pages) on Wattpad HERE
He steps out of the house, mindful of the crumbling front step that cost him a week's stay in hospital last winter. He ought to get the thing fixed but he hasn't got the money to pay some cowboy who would only make it worse. If the thing eroded even more, he could always start using the back door, but that would mean being under the nosy gaze of the old trout across the way who sits, perpetually, in her living room, staring out the window at everyone and everything. Still, he could always raise his middle finger to her, give her something to gossip to her equally prying friends with. And he'd get a chuckle from it, to see how flustered and offended she'd get.
As he sets off down the uneven path, he takes in the unkempt lawn that he's given up tending to himself. His bones and joints complain when he has to bend or kneel, anyway. The last time he was in the garden, doing a spot of weeding, his back had went. Half an hour he'd stayed there, in extraordinary pain, frozen like a rotting statue, before someone - an old dear out walking her dog - passed by and helped him into the house. The dog, some cross-breed monstrosity, had kept at his feet, letting out a constant bark.
Don't worry, I assure you this story does come under the 'Science Fiction/Fantasy' umbrella. You'll just have to read the full story to find out how.
Read more SFFSat snippets by fellow authors HERE.
Thanks for stopping by!