Woo hoo! I didn’t fail after only two days! Here is today’s challenge prompt:
Imagine you’re looking through a collection of short stories. One of the titles
catches your interest. That’s the story you want to read first. What might the
title be? Invent a title that would make you want to read the story. Now, write a
story to go with that title…
I went with short and silly today to make up for scary and dark the first two days 🙂 Trying not to be a one trick pony.
“What were you expecting? A unicorn?”
“Watch it, you clumsy mongrel” The squeaky little voice shouted from somewhere in the tall grass. Eric stopped and cocked his head to the side, looking for all the world like the RCA dog listening to the grammaphone. Well, he would have had he had little black ears, and a long face, and maybe if he had been a dog.
Why was he thinking about dogs? Eric scratched his head. Something had made him think of dogs. He started walking again.
“What did I just say, you son of a turnip!” The squeaky voice, that was it! Where was it coming from> Eric searched the ground in the immediate area around his feet but saw nothing of note. Had the grass begun to talk now? Maybe it always had and he was just now noticing. Did other people already know that? Was he the last to figure it out? Maybe that was why they all made fun of him, because he hadn’t been listening to the grass.
“Gosh, Mr. Grass, I sure am sorry, but how am I supposed to get home if I can’t walk on you?” It was a good question as far as Eric was concerned. He needed to get home before dark, Mama was waiting for him to come back with the berries so she could bake a pie. A blackberry pie with whipped cream and sugar sprinkled on top. He loved pie.
“In the name of all that is holy and good, you are the dumbest human I have ever seen.” The grass was talking again. Only it wasn’t the grass after all, and Eric was slightly disappointed that he revelation of communicative flora was for naught.
“Oh, just a fairy.” Eric slumped and scuffed his toe on the ground and the tiny green winged sprite landed on his basket full of blackberries. He had seen lots of those, they were all over the woods and fields here. Why just this spring he had even seen an honest to goodness gnome, red pointy hat and all. It had just sat there at the edge of Mrs. Danforth’s garden, still as stone. His brother had boxed his ears until his head rang later when he told him about it. The older boy insisted that the gnome was just a decoration and had not been real, but the next day it had been gone, so Eric knew it was real.
“Just a fairy?” The little being huffed in annoyance. “What were you expecting? A Unicorn?”