The Bar of Chocolate

The Big Bar of Chocolate.

Sitting on a concrete stair in the back garden not allowed out. I won a big bar of chocolate now I cannot go out my dad says I stole it. So now I have to stay in for a whole month, on my summer holidays. Grrr.

Mates knock, can he come out, “no, the boy is a thief”. Looking down the garden, it was a wasteland, big clay chunks around its edges. There was a brown bit down the bottom, called the vegetable garden. It was given that status as rumour had it a Radish once grew there. Four weeks of this and I will run away. I wish I had won the thing in the first place, still if it had not been that then it would have been something else.

Because I was so bored I began to throw lumps of mud at a post at the back of my garden. Then, I thought, it would be a good idea if I threw them over the the house roof. I heard a terrible scream from our side alleyway, one of the lumps had hit my father. The back gate flew open and there he was, covered in bits of wet clay.