A Ficly about a bunch of boys in the city and their Soap box cart driver.

The discarded soap box in the back of the alley wasn’t big enough to fit any of us, and the bottom looked pretty rotted out, but we all knew that it had been sitting there long enough, and it was time to put it to good use.

We scoured the neighborhood for a week or two before finding enough wheels and pipes to turn it into a respectable cart. The only problem was that by the time we had managed to screw everything in, it dawned on us that we wouldn’t be able to find anyone small enough to steer it down windy Suicide Hill.

We all went home wondering if we had wasted our time. Jimmy rolled the box to his place in the dark.

It wasn’t until late that night, after I had gone to bed and fallen asleep that I heard a pebble hit my window. Groggy, I crawled out from under the sheets to peer out into the blackness. All the boys were outside with the cart, under a street lamp. Jimmy was beaming, his baby brother in his arms.

Originally on Ficly: http://ficly.com/stories/16059