Thanks to Kat for this week’s twittering tale prompt. It gave me a whole lot of ideas and images. The ideas duked it out in my brain for a bit (as ideas tend to do) and this was the winner. Hope you like it.
A Twittering Tale – Disaster
This day was a disaster and it started with one word. “FIRE!” A lot of disasters start with fire, not usually a demon-spawned stroke of brimstone and hellfire but still it could have been worse. Or so I thought, until I looked down at my smoking hands. Oh crap what did I do?
I watched her roll out the dough. Her hands were worn and gnarled with age but strong and gentle still. The cookies would soon fill her kitchen with the heady scent of sugar and flour, and love. Her secret ingredient remains a secret to this day. I think it was love.
character count 272
For Kat’s Twittering Tales come join us for fun and lessons in brutal editing. 😉
This week’s 50-word Thursday prompt brought to us by Teresa at the haunted wordsmithMaybe I needed to learn to stay more alert when traveling in a foreign country” – Lisa Bullard, Turn Left at the Cow.
Herein lies the final entry of my journal, read it well. The Captain continues south, certain that we will find land. The crew does not share his optimism. Food has all gone bad, water supply dwindling; we have little strength left. Wait, what is that noise on deck? Bloody PIRATES!!!
She lay crouched, belly low to the ground. The grass waved a bit above her stealthy form. Eyes focused intently, it was there, she knew it was, she had seen it only moments ago. What was it? Would it come again? The curiosity was like an itch screaming to be scratched. Still she waited, barely breathing, low and slow she crept ever closer. Suddenly, there it was a scant movement of the soil. Wait, wait … and she pounced, GOTCHA!
“Snowball it’s time for dinner,” her human’s voice rang from the front stoop. Snowball proudly carried her prize, a tiny mole, dropping it at the human’s feet.
She ducked into the dingy narrow passage between the buildings. Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening. Solanj smelled a trap. She was being followed and this was the perfect place for an ambush. Silently she waited, aware and ready to spring the trap.
Word count 50
Fifty Word Thursday brought to us this week by Tales from the Mind of Kristian ‘Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.’