Abha needs a thousand rupees for her son's gift, but it seems impossible.
|Prompt: Write a 300 word story that includes the words: bicycle, magnet, broom
Abha's fingers bled, but she kept wrapping straws onto the bottom of the broom, her third so far this morning. The pain didn't matter. All that mattered was Paavo.
Paavo, her sweet little boy. He had big hopes for such a little boy. He was drawn to the bicycle shop like a magnet. His eyes had grown wide when he saw the red one, but she would never be able to buy it for his birthday. She had saved all year but only had nine hundred rupees. It cost a thousand.
"Abha!" her boss yelled.
She cringed and wove in another straw.
"Work faster!," he said and stomped away.
She nodded and a wisp of ebony hair fell in front of her eyes. She tried to blow the strand away, but it kept falling back. Everyone said she had the most beautiful hair. Even her husband had found it lovely before he divorced her, leaving her alone to raise her baby.
She started broom four, her eyes misting. She had to find a way to get Paavo that bicycle. He was such a good little boy.
Broom thirty, and her shoulders burned as much as her fingers. Struggling to her feet, she ignored the ache in her legs from sitting all day. Leaving the workshop behind, she entered the dusty street with its multitude of poor. A boy, barely older than Paavo zoomed by on his rusty bike, shouting with glee.
She swallowed. Today was Paavo's birthday. He was expecting the bicycle, but she needed another hundred rupees.
A bearded man bumped into her, but she didn't see him. She saw the shop. Across the street. She locked her chin and stepped inside.
Fifteen minutes later, she no longer had her long, flowing hair, but Paavo would have his bike.