The Tale Of The Converse

As promised, a little extract I wrote on Sunday, prompted by the feet picture 🙂

“Sophia Jackson! You get down these stairs right this minute!”

Sophia hated having an older sister.

“Sophia, I mean it, don’t make me come up there!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming, keep your knickers on.” She made her way reluctantly to the top of the stairs and stared down at Annie’s red face. “What?”

Annie glared and Sophia found herself trying not to giggle.

“Where are my Converse? I know you’ve had them.”

“Converse? I haven’t touched them!”

It was always the same. Since Annie turned sixteen, two years ago, the four year age gap just seemed to be getting wider.

“Don’t lie to me, you’re always touching my stuff! I’m gunna get Dad to put a lock on my door.”

Sophia watched her sister flounce off down the hallway. Annie seemed to do a lot of flouncing, so Dad said. Sophia stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Annie wailing to Mum.

“Can you search her room, I know she’s got them, I’m meeting Tom in half an hour.”

Sophia appeared at the kitchen door. “Go search my room then, I haven’t got them!” She skipped off down the hallway and out into the garden, knowing full well that Annie would be on her way up to her room.

Dad was at the bottom of the garden putting the last of the autumn leaves onto a huge pile.

“You ok Soph?” He smiled.

Sophia knew she was his favourite.

“Do you want to light the bonfire?”

She nodded enthusiastically as Dad handed her the box of matches.

“Careful now, arms length.”

Sophia struck the match and bent down. Slowly the flames began to lick the old shrub branches and leaves. She stood back and grinned. For several minutes, they watched the flames take hold of the large mound.

“Oooo, what’s that smell?” Dad sniffed the air. “I don’t remember putting anything rubber on there.”

Sophia smiled sweetly and put her arm around his waist.


He he he, I just don’t do nice 😉

22 thoughts on “The Tale Of The Converse

  1. Aww poor Sophie! i was the oldest and know exactly how it felt to be constantly trying to retrieve all my stuff from my younger sisters and guess what my sister was daddies favourite and could do no wrong that is the reason big sisters flounce we are badly done to!


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