Ordinarily, I would have pre-amble, darlings, but this isn’t ordinarily. Unless it is, in which case, I suppose I will have a pre-amble. After all, I’ve already started one, so why stop now?
I have been rather busy lately (which is, I realize, a four-letter-word — busy, that is — not lately — I do remember how to count) and so have not been doing much reading or writing — but I do hope to remedy that, and what better way to start than with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 100 word challenge (you can find out the details here)
The title was what I couldn’t figure. Everything I thought up was a terrible give away, or else gave the story a blackly humourous twist, and that’s not what I was going for (some of you sick puppies can probably imagine some titles once you’ve read it)
Anyhow, darlings, I do thank you for reading, and as time allows I will also be diving back in to read your stories as well.
Emily’s laughter rang out in delight as she chased after seagulls fighting over a scrap of bread.
“-etty!” she cheered ecstatically. “-etty birds!”
Panic gripped her father’s heart, and he tossed a stone angrily at the birds. Running after his daughter, he scooped her up in his arms and began covering her face with kisses.
The girl cried in protest, not understanding her father’s fear, or anger. He wiped the tears away from her one good eye, and cursed himself for what he could not change.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he promised, “Daddy won’t let the birdies hurt you ever again.”