“Yes, sir. Thank you,sir. Could I just have one more?’
‘Do I look like I run a charity? Keep moving, you’re holding up the line.’
Rubbing his nose vigorously, blinking back tears, Oliver swallowed and tried again:
‘Please, sir. Just one more bill. I promise I’m good for it.’
The moneylender grunted, rolled his wealthy eyes and put another $50 bill in the cracked, outstretched hand.
‘Mind you pay it back next time!’
Oliver’s face creased in a smile of gratitude. He’d now be able to buy those medicines for mom.
Cancer and abundant poverty don’t mix.
Welcome to The Moving Quill!
For this year’s A to Z Challenge, I’ve taken up the theme of
An Oxymoron rendered in micro-fiction.
Each day’s title will have one half of the oxymoron while the second half will be revealed towards the end of the post.
Follow me as I unravel each tale in exactly 100 words.
Featured image courtesy: Balabanov Igor via Shutterstock