Frickin' dyslexic witch. What kind of curse is this?
I could have been a terror. Running wild. Ravaging. Because honestly, who doesn't want to let go and just be bad once in a while? Once every 28 days in fact.
But no, crazy woman can't spell. So when the full moon rises I gallop across the horizon. Not ravaging. Just grazing. Nothing fears me, not even the flies pestering my flanks.
Just before daybreak a child reaches out a handful of grass. I trot over. Chomp her fingers. She cries and runs into the house.
Feared at last!
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Photo prompt from -flash-fiction-forum Founders Challenge week 3
YOU ARE READING
Nailed It! - flash and micro fiction
HumorVery short stories where I have (hopefully) "nailed it" in a handful of words. Comments and critiques welcome.
