Drama Fiction Five00-7 Humour Tragedy Watchers Pick

In a Rut

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Shit, he was in a rut, he needed to get out.

‘How long am I supposed to do this? Everyone else has it better than me; better jobs, better places, better locales. I cannot continue to live like this anymore. I have to do something. At the next opportunity I am getting out of here. No one can stop me.’

Thus, determined he waited for the opportunity. It came on a drizzly Saturday. The guys were all gathered at the playground, he was there too. Where else would he be?

“Come on guys let’s play. There’s no better time than rains to play football,” said Arshad holding the ball. 

‘Of course, you think so. You filthy animal!’   

The next second Arshad kicked him real hard. Down he went rolling in the mud, being kicked around by everyone and passed from one foot to another. He was fed-up of being a football. After about an hour of torture, he was kicked rather viciously and this time he didn’t stop rolling. 

“Hey why did you kick it so hard? Now you go and get it,” Arshad shouted. 

‘Oh no, you are not getting me. I am out of here.’

The football continued to roll till it reached the edge of the playground. Beyond that was the busy street and then the beach, his ultimate destination. A small boy saw it and kicked it hard.

‘Thank you boy, never been happier to be kicked. Now I can truly escape and fulfil my dream of being a beach volleyball.’

The ball rolled down, on to the street.

‘No, no no…Hey watch out. Damn, one of these cars will get me. I have to get off the road. I didn’t escape from there to be a victim of vehicular manslaughter.’

The ball tried its best to dodge the cars. Rolling left then right it somehow made it to the divider. There it rolled to a stop in a puddle of dirty water. Just then a black BMW came barreling down the road and even as the football cowered in sheer terror it was lifted off and thrown across the divider on a wave of splashed water.

Now it was a life or death situation on the other side of the road. 

‘Please help me Lord. If I can just cross this road, I will reach the beach. And then it will be gentle-hands and bye-bye feet. Don’t let it be a case of so near yet so far.’

The football rolled with all its might. It had travelled a long road to finally reach the beach. 

‘Yey, I made it. I finally escaped. Now someone will see me, pick me up and play volleyball,’ he sighed happily.

He heard footsteps approaching him and then a young voice said, “Hey, look a football.” This was followed by a chorus of happy cheers. He felt sick. 

Shit, he was in a rut, he needed to get out.




This is an entry for Five00-7, a writing event hosted by ArtoonsInn. Check out the event prompt and guidelines here: https://writers.artoonsinn.com/five00-7/

Use the tracker to record your rulfy progress: https://1drv.ms/x/s!ApiLwn00sMcLgw25_MChxGCrua9_

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