He couldn’t afford to be seen.
Ever so quietly, he peered at his target, lying there, unaware of what was to befall her.
Without making a sound, he padded across the room and stood over her. His face was a flurry of emotions: anger, guilt, sadness, but most of all, one took dominance over the rest.
Swift as lightning, he pushed. The whole thing came crashing down. As her scream rent the room, he dashed out and hid himself.
Two pairs of feet came running and rescued her from her flailing predicament. One made soft, cooing noises while the other said, ‘I think this was Hari’s doing.’
“What nonsense!” said the other. “Hari wouldn’t hurt her. She’s his baby sister.”
Hari’s dad responded, ‘Yes, but it was only him and Gopal all along and he may not like the fact that a baby has taken his place today.’
Smouldering in jealousy, Hari nodded his head, while still hidden from view. Three was a bad number!
Written for the fortnight-long blogging challenge, Barathon, 2018
This time, I’m writing flash fiction on the different prompts of each day.
Word count will be a multiple of 11 😉
Today’s Word Count: 165