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hideously shy child I felt like, and Carl wouldn’t have taken offence at all if I’d bashed him about the ear for singling me out. Next time, maybe. I had never been any good at being off-the-cuff. “I’ll meet you all again on Wednesday, 6 o’clock,” he said, and vanished into the main building. Alec took his cue from Carl and lifted himself up from the cradling comfort of the boat’s bow, which he’d been painting blue. We had decided blue was our team colour. Alec stomped the mud off his “workboots” (we were very much pretending to be hardened labourers in our workshop, to feel more experienced and officious) and headed back inside, upstairs, probably to have a pint or two before walking the few hundred yards home. Tom and I were left sitting in the approaching darkness. I was kneeling on the floor beside a piece of boat, painting our team name on the side. Tom was on a wooden chair with a hammer in his hand, although I’d no idea what he had been doing. I asked him if he had anything left to do tonight, and he shook his head slowly, as if he’d no idea what it was he had been up to either. He stood up and stretched. “I suppose I’d better get going too. I’m not working tomorrow but I’m knackered! Let’s go, I’d feel guilty if I left you here working hard on your own. We can get the rest sorted on Wednesday, there’s not much left to do now.” I got up and stood next to him as we surveyed what we’d done. It was a small thing, cobbling together an amateurish wooden boat, but ÉCLAT FICTION

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MAY 2012

Profile for Eclat Fiction

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

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