by Thadd Presley
Hubert jumped his Huffy and felt invincible. The dirt ramp ruled. Everything was perfect. The street bully was grounded and chicken casserole would be for dinner. The next jump would break his personal record.
The record was five feet, nine inches and marked with a pink chalk line. Hubert was sure he would hit six feet, easily.
Legs pumping harder this time; up, down, like pistons. His eyes on the ramp. Blast off, in three, two…
Then, from the bushes came something fast: “Arrrhhhgg!”
He jerked away from the sound. The handle bars twisted, the bike flipped. Hubert tasted dirt, face first.
“Got you!” The boy was bent double laughing so hard. “Oh, I got you so good.”
From the ground, Hubert yelled: “Thought you were grounded!”
Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.