Day 16. A piece of the pull

The rope was lying on the ground between them.  A bright red flag marking the centre point of the rope resting on the grass. Two markings 4 metres to either side of the centre line were visible. One for each team. 

Lined up along the rope, the blue-clad team of eight were flexing their muscles, and jeering at their opponents.  At the other end of the rope pull was only seven contestants dressed in pink.  There had been a no- show for their eighth term member.

According to the rules, there must be an even number of members of each team. If the  pink team did not front up with aneighth person, they would lose by default. The situation was desperate.  The pink team looked around the field looking for someone, anyone to help for the big pull. 

All was ready as the crowd waited for the whistle to start the contest. The umpire gave the 3 minute warning for the contest to start.  Just as the pink team’s captain was about to concede, forward stepped a volunteer. The blue team chortled and scoffed but the whistle blew and the tug began. 

The strain showed in the forearms of the team. Grunting as they tugged and pulled, the blue team were gaining purchase against their opponents. The red flag wavered towards their line. Suddenly, their heels slipped along the soft turf. They were losing their grip.

Just at the last moment, the pink volunteer dug her six inch stiletto heels into the slippery turf. She added her piece to the pull. The team gained traction and pulled. The red flag crossed over their mark. The  contest was over.


This is is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, July Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’

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