The Letter (Short Story)
Emily | Sorrento Primary School
Primary English | Term 1 2021
This is the start of a story that is yet to be continued in the city….
I trudge up the dirty lane and wipe the sweat off of my face. The dust swirls around my eyes and I heave up my water bucket and carry it all the way back to the sheep. I can only begin to imagine what it must be like to be wrapped up in that woollen blanket in this blazing heat. I can feel the sun smiling upon me and leaving bright red kisses on my cheeks. My freckled face turns red with the effort of pouring the water into their water trough.
I push through my fatigue and run back to my old country farmhouse. A red brick wall chipped from age lines the perimeter. Sand is starting to bank up against the walls, making it hard to get in. It is a wonder that I can even get grass to stay half alive out here in this barren area.
As I step towards the house I grab out the mail. Hidden at the bottom is an envelope covered in a detailed red stamp. I sigh and my heart sinks. It’s that annoying bank manager again. I throw the envelope in the bin without even opening it. I am filled with so much rage that it takes a minute or two to calm myself down. The interior of my house is filled with decaying wood and plants so shrivelled up they are barely recognizable. It may not seem like much but this is what I call home.
“Baaa!” My lamb Benny calls from the next room. He struts forward, showing off his magnificent white coat as if he were walking down the catwalk. I feel a pang of jealousy at how easily and gracefully he moves around and try to pretend the never-ending ache in my legs has never been there.
Bang! Bang! Bang! I jump in fright and rush to the door. A tiny head peeps around the rotten wood. With a sigh of relief, I let the person in. It is my Grandma. She always wears a purple skirt with a floral pattern printed on it as well as her red t-shirt she once bought at a rock and roll concert sometime back in the eighties. She walks in as if she owns the place and plonks her orange handbag onto the bench. She doesn’t even think about taking her hippy glasses off. “Hello Grandma!” I say as I bolt over and nearly tackle her to the ground. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, no Olivia, I have no time for that today. I have some urgent news. I heard that the vile bank manager, Mr whatever his face, is coming down in a week to take over your house!”
“What!” I nearly burst out in tears. “How come I don’t know about that?” She nodded at the unopened envelope that had been thrown during my rage. “Oh. Wait, how do you know?”
“I have my ways,” she says with a wink. “More to the point, I think you should go up to the city and face him yourself, teach him a lesson.”
“But Grandma, you know I don’t like busy places and lots of people,” I stammer, afraid of the idea. “Too late now, the train leaves in twenty minutes so get some belongings and hurry up.” With that she leaves abruptly and sits outside, fanning herself from the heat. I don’t argue with her and I dash around the house, gathering the few bits and bobs that are dear to me. I rush out and jump in the back of Grandma’s mini golf buggy, questioning if she ever got her driver’s license. Before I can hesitate the engine roars into life sending thick plumes of exhaust into the air. I hold on for dear life as we zoom off to the train station. With a pang of guilt, I realize I never said goodbye to Benny, but it’s too late now and my gut is already full of dread of what is to become.Emily | Sorrento Primary School
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