Chloe draped her arms over Neil’s neck and nuzzled into his neck. ‘What are you doing?’
Neil kept his eyes fixed on the laptop screen. ‘Pulling a thread.’
‘I thought I was finished. Then I tinkered with the second paragraph, which meant I had to re-jig the third, which led to a redrafting of the whole first section.’
‘And how is it now?’
‘Still unravelling. It’s like a run in your tights. One slight nick that’s unfurled into an ugly ladder.’
‘Why don’t you come back to bed?’
‘You’ll be hours. It can’t unravel on its own.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.