Writer's Notebook

This week's 3WW words are dread, grasp, pacify.

Dread never had any problems finding a victim. Today was no exception. The moment he saw the somewhat despondent looking man kiss his wife and set off bag in hand, Dread knew he had his catch. There was something about his stooping shoulders which told all. Following silently, he considered his opening move, deciding against a full-fronted attack. Today stealth was called for. A few reassuring words, an arm over the shoulder; just enough to prove his sincerity but far too weak to be of any real help. And once the seeds of doubt were sown, the rest would be child's play. Or so he thought but just as his spidery fingers reached for the jugular, he took a blow to the nose which sent him reeling. For the first time in months a victim had escaped him.

Luap tried his best to look the part as he set off down the street. His wife's words whirled around in his mind like the Mary Poppins carousel they had enjoyed together the previous night. It had been Hatti's treat, designed to take his mind off things. She had succeeded; for a while. Now, it was up to him to show her that her efforts were not in vain. Victory was in sight, but he alone could reach out and grasp it. No one else could help him. He tried his best to keep his head high but before long whisps of doubt began to tangle themselves around his person. He looked round but could see no one. He sat down as the cares began to overwhelm him. It seemed a lot easier than making a fight of things. But just as he was about to succumb Hatti's insistant words came back to him: "Never lie down, only victims lie down." He shot to his feet. And set off on his way again. As he did so, he couldn't help feeling he'd somehow toppled someone nearby. Yet, he was quite alone, of that he was sure.


Hatti couldn't help pacing back and forth in her kitchen. She thought she'd done enough to keep despondency at bay, but as she watched Luap shuffle down the road towards the station that morning, she saw the familiar figure of dread creep up behing him. The worst was that there was nothing she could do to help him. If only... She pulled herself up as she recognised her husband's favourite train of thought. "If only..." How often had she chided him for going down that path? The surest way of opening oneself up to Dread, that's what it was. How fortunate, Dread was not around. Her husband had been the decoy and now she knew he would make it through. All she had to do was wait for the phone call, wait to hear the pacifying words she no longer doubted would come that evening.