Furious Fiction

Furious Fiction- May 2023

Criteria:

Your story must include a character who is BEING CHASED or doing the CHASING. 

Your story must include the words BOIL, FRINGE and JUMP. (You can use longer words – e.g. BOILING or JUMPED – as long as they retain the original spelling within them.) 

Your story must contain at least THREE CREATIVE SIMILES.

***

The Critic

She blew her fringe out of her eyes as she kept stirring furiously. The pots boiled and spat over the sides, sauce dripping down onto the flickering flames below. Sweat glistened on her flushed cheeks, as the steam rose from the dishes. The spices were scattered across the benchtop. The worn pages of the recipe book curled as the heat in the kitchen rose. It had to be right. It had to be perfect.

A shriek in the distance.

She jumped and the spoon clattered onto the floor. The sauce splattered across the tiles like stars in the night sky. Her eyes darted to the window and scanned the trees. A head bobbed among the greenery like a buoy on the rolling seas. The wind blew the branches softly and leaves twirled to the ground. She fanned her face to mimic the wind outside, in a weak attempt to cool herself.

A squeal sounded again. An animalistic sound followed.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she moved toward the window in hope for a better view as to what was happening outside. The shapes moved among the trees; one being chased by the other. Continuous shrill sounds mixed with the animal's grumbles which swirled in the air like a flock of starlings.

She turned her concentration back to the pots bubbling away and turned off the gas. She reached for a cloth and crouched to the floor to remove her constellation of tomato sauce. The stained fabric was tossed in the sink as she moved towards the door.

"Thomas! Dinner!"

The blonde streak ran inside, giggling, with a four-legged friend following behind, panting happily.

"Up. Up!" Thomas' arms reached up towards his mother who picked him up with ease and put him in his chair at the table.

"Ready for dinner Thomas?" his mother cooed. "Yum, yum!"

"No! Yucky!" Thomas turned his head away and pushed at the plate. His mother sighed.

"C'mon Thomas. Let's have a try?" The woman loaded the spoon with sauce. "Here comes the choo choo train!" She motioned the spoon towards the wriggling child, imitating a steam engine."

"No! Yuck!" Thomas' arms pushed out and knocked the spoon out of his mother's hands. The spoon fell to the floor and was soon followed by the plastic plate. Thomas whimpered and grumbled as he tried to free himself of his confines.

"No! Yuck! No!" Thomas' mess of noodles and sauce imitated the accidental scene his mother had created earlier. His mother put her head in her hands and blew out a sharp breath.

"Alright Thomas. How about some biscuits?" She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Another afternoon wasted.