The Footprint

Hi guys! Lately I've been experimenting with first person viewpoint, this is the viewpoint I use most in my stories, you can 'see' what the person is thinking.

I came up with this true life story that took place last year, 1st person viewpoint provides a special, humorous edge to it. Enjoy!

I sat on the round swing that hung from a huge thick tree, Narnia in hand, reading silently as branches covered in greens swayed above me.

My cousin Zif was in front of me, stick in hand as he scavenged the garden, looking for anything alive. Typical boy behavior.

“Hey, what’s that?” He pointed at an imprint of a medium sized flip-flop.

I muttered something about my slipper as I turned the page, not wanting to destroy the peace.

Zif grabbed my shoe from my foot, pulling me off balance as he did so, making me fall.

“What did you do that for?” I yelled from my new location, which was under a menacing looking cactus.

He held up my slipper, “See, the prints don’t match! Someone trespassed here!”

I got up, interested, “Let’s check the other slippers.”

Zif ran off while I grabbed my notepad and pen and drew an intricate copy of the print, now this vacation is getting interesting. I thought.

He came back with a various collection of flip flops, and one by one we tried to make a match, but nothing worked.

We moved on to sandals, work shoes, tennis shoes, every single piece of footwear in the house.

Nothing.

Soon, Zif and I were so engrossed with this mystery that he forgot his stick, and I forgot my Narnia.

“What about that woman that visited for tea?” I asked, jotting down notes.

“No, she wore high heels, and tea was INSIDE the house, not in the garden.”

I realized he was right, and wrote down the new info.

Zif found a number of the same footprints around the garden, and we picked the clearest one to investigate.

By now my notepad was getting full.

We worked on this for the next 3 hours, then the day after we resumed after breakfast.

There were more. 

Yes, the intruder had gone pitter-patter all around the garden, and a little scrutinizing revealed that they were a few hours old.

“We’ll catch this guy in the act tomorrow, early in the morning.” I told Zif.

The next day, we went out, tailed by the family’s dog, BB, the small black shadow rummaged around as we talked by the cactus.

“Okay, we have one footprint left clear, I’m planning to put a cover over it, to keep it safe.” I told him.

Turning around, we realized that the footprint was gone, and that BB had sand on his paws.

We stood frozen, dumbfounded.

Then we shrugged and I got my Narnia, he got his stick.