Rating: white cortina
Word Count: 230
Notes: Gen, no warnings. 1976 was the hottest UK summer on record. Very silly indeed, but at least I managed to write something!
Like anyone else of his age and disposition, he wasn’t averse to snoozing in a comfortable sunny corner when he got the chance, soaking up the rays. And when the sun kept on beating down from dawn ‘til dusk, he was quite happy to do little else but make the most of it.
The first few days were marvellous and he revelled in their golden glory. But soon even the shadiest of spots was an oven, the quest for a cooling drink became constant, desperate, and all he could do was lie miserably immobile, flattened by the torturous heat.
Surely once there had been water, soothing water, which fell from the sky, hadn’t there? Perhaps he had only imagined it in one of the fevered dreams that kept him tossing and turning through nights that were almost as hot as the days.
Trust Sammy to find a solution. Splayed out in nothing but his swimming trunks, eyes closed, daft grin plastered right across his face.
Surely there was room enough in there for two? And he was in exactly the right place for the perfect launch…
A long wailing sob of horror brought a worried face to the window, only to be greeted by the sight of a swiftly spreading puddle accompanied by copiously falling tears and a highly indignant bundle of wet fur.
‘Muu-umm-mm-my… Ivanhoe burst my paddling pool!’