“My legs aren’t that fat,” Bobby said.
“It’s HARD to trace a person!” replied Johnny.
Bobby stood back staring at the figure sketched on the road. “It looks like I have no neck. AND it looks like I’m holding a bottled water.”
“You WERE holding a bottled water,” said Johnny.
“You said you would make it look like a hand grenade. That’s why I put my other arm up over my head — so it’d look like I pulled the pin and was about to throw it.”
“I know how we can make it really realistic,” Johnny said.
Bobby narrowed his eyes. “How?”
Johnny leaned in before he spoke. “Use a real grenade,” he said in a quiet voice.
Bobby smirked. “Yeah, right,” he sneered. “I suppose you have a whole box of them in your house.”
“I don’t,” said Johnny, “but my great-uncle Toby does. I know where it is.”
“A whole box of grenades?” Bobby questioned.
“Well, no — but he has a grenade. I’ve seen it.”
The two boys walked the few blocks to where Uncle Toby lived.
“He’s not home,” whispered Johnny. “He’s in Florida, but I know where the key is.”
Once inside, Johnny headed straight for the bedroom and pulled a box out from under the bed. “See,” he said, pointing to an olive-drab device.
Bobby picked it up. He hefted it in his hand.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. This is real. Trace me holding this.” And he fiddled with the ring holding the pin.
My meager attempt at the Unicorn Challenge, which is write something (no more than 250 words) based on the photo.
Can you tell I struggled with this one?
Meh — got it done, though.
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 
Quite the imagination. I hope those boys don’t play with those things.
Great story. Thanks
Ah, but we all know that boys will be boys, right? Thanks for the kind words.
If you struggled with this one it didn’t show (at least to me). I thought this was very good and I liked how it went from something light and funny at the beginning and then quickly turned to a very (potentially) dark, and sadly topical, ending.
Thank you, Michael. You’re so kind.
I looked at that photograph so many times and the only two things that ever came to mind were: 1) the legs were fat, and 2) it looked like he was lobbing a water bottle or hand grenade. So this morning, I told myself that I had to write *something* and forced the issue. What you read is what came out.
Desperation often leads to inspiration, Sally, and this is a great example. And you left us in suspenders as to whether it would end with a bang.
I was holding my breath at the end!