Wankel watched the biggers as they kicked an inflated bladder around the grass. One group was intent on getting the bladder between the two piles of flowerpots. The second was intent on stoping them.
He thought this might be a game for those summer nights when nobody can sleep for the buzzing of the blood in their veins.
But.
Of course it went wrong.
The stone they used instead of a bladder sailed through the conservatory window with a loud crack.
By the time the biggers got up there was nothing to be seen except a hole in the glass.
Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Ninety-Five
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