“There’s his shoes. So where is George?” Andrea pointed at the shoes that were neatly placed beside the fire of the camp. “He put them there last night because they got wet during the day and he wanted them to dry off.”
“Maybe he has other shoes?”
“I am sure he doesn’t. Where would he go barefoot?” Andrea began hunting the campsite for clues and all of the horror stories that she liked reading came into the front of her mind. She slowly began to panic about the fate of her little brother.
Her mother was determined to look at the whole thing from a more logical point of view. “Honey, I am sure that he is not going to be far away.”
Andrea shook her head. “No, there has to be something in this because he would not go anywhere without shoes.”
“You’re so melodramatic. Look, he has his phone with him so I will just give it a ring and see where he is.” The mother calmly dialled and the phone began ringing.
George jumped down the tree as he was spotted by his mother. He pointed to his sister and laughed. “You should have seen your face!”
Written for flash fiction for the purposeful practitioner