Compulsive talker, singer, reader Ginny Romney shares her thoughts as the queen of the peanut gallery. A reformed pessimist writing her (hopefully) funny life story full of mishaps, travel and adventure.
Champion for AP Style. (Except for "okay.") Comments are appreciated, hate tweets cherished.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Aaaand we're back with creative writing postings! Yay! I've joined a Flash Fiction group very similar to the last one, so you probably remember the deal: one hundred words inspired by the prompt. Every Friday! (It's another thing to look forward to after a long week :D) Here's my offering: He awoke, having blacked out after hearing the crunch. It wasn’t there. His leg was no longer there.
Don’t think about it. Breathe. In and out, just in and out. He tried to calm himself. Look around. Distract yourself.
He glanced around, but only felt more dread.
He was surrounded by sprinkles. His compatriots had fallen. Those brave, brave gingerbread men. Gone.
Why was he spared?
Remember. Try to remember. That man had attacked them.
He looked down to see how he had fared and noticed a strand of dog fur peeking from the bitten leg. Saved by a hair.
This short story is a part of the illustrious Flash Fiction Friday. Read the other lovely stories, spun off the prompt: "What happened to all of them?" at the links below!