Broken Mirror Shard (apparently) - Day 1

Okay, so I did write on this bad boy today, but in my notebook, as usual, which means I have to type it up to present it to anyone.  That's a pain, I realize, but I'll add more if I manage to scrape together a little time tonight after podcasting.

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Untitled Claw Story

                Now that their mother was working full time again, it was up to Stewart to keep track of his little brother.  Anthony was seven, which isn’t that much younger than fourteen, but to Stewart, it was an uncrossable gulf of age that provided only irritation and annoyance.  Okay, and occasional affection, since Anthony just wanted to be around his big brother, do what he did, talk like he did, go where he went.

                Stewart rode a skateboard, though, and Anthony rode a bike, and not nearly as fast.  To see him pumping his little legs like the devil herself was behind him was amusing, however, and Stewarts friends got a kick out of watching him try to keep up.

                Then Stewart had ditched his little brother at the miniature golf course, and Anthony had been in tears, asking the employees for a phone to call his mommy . . . and Stewart was busted.  His mom had given him such an angry, tearful tirade about responsibility, and child killers, and him being the man of the house  now, that Stewart had nearly cried himself.  With Mom working days, he was only not grounded if he was with his little brother, and that meant right next to his little brother.  So, no more sneaking into construction sites, or breaking windows at the abandoned leather works.  Now he had to go to the mall, or the water park, or the pet store, and entertain his spoiled kid brother.

                Of course, Anthony was thrilled to be able to pick their destinations, and would often insist on holding Stewart’s hand, as embarrassing as that could be.  One time, he told him about the man who’d offered to give him a ride home from the golf course, and that had pretty much cemented Stewart’s dedication to his sibling.

                Today they had gone to the skate park, where Anthony had watched—with admirable patience—as Stewart jumped, slid, and tried to half-pipe with the other skaters, each trying to look coolest for the three girls who also happened to be watching.  Stewart wasn’t very good, but Anthony was enjoying his attempts, and vowed to make him teach him how to ride a board . . . when he got just a little older.

                It was a hot day, sunny and breezeless, and they soon got tired of the summer heat.  “Let’s go get a drink,” Stewart said, and they started down the street. 

Words today: 407
Total words: 410