What was that? It was an earthquake. Not a big earthquake but enough to rumble and to swing the light fitting hanging from his bedroom ceiling. Ronald leaped out of bed, dressed in a jiffy, and ran to the safety of the kitchen. Not that the kitchen was any safer than anywhere else but his mother was there carrying on as if nothing had happened.
Ronald hated earthquakes. They happened quite often but he’d never been in a big one. It was likely that this little earthquake was a one off. But you never know. Was it a loner or the prelude to a big one?
Later, Ronald’s mother was heard to say: “I wish we would have more earthquakes. It’s the only way I can get Ronald outside to mow the lawn.”
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