I do enjoy a good writing challenge. In Keith’s words, “On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at email@example.com before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here – pingbacks don’t often work.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or web site, next Monday.”
Here’s my story titled The Fowl Direction:
“What the heck are you doing?” inquired Uncle Jack.
“Practi- Uh, I mean, I’m trying to stretch my tongue to my nose,” Ethan admitted.
“Well, okay. Not sure why’d you feel that necessary to do. But, okay.”
“I’m limbering my muscles for mastication,” Ethan said.
From the back seat, “Don’t talk that way, young man!” Ethan’s mother exclaimed.
Ethan retorted, “Mom, mastication is eating. We’re eating at the next exit, right?”
Uncle Jack stepped up, “Yeah, well, if we ever get to the next exit.”
The Honda put-putted at seven miles-an-hour. There was no reprieve. This was the given speed dictated by the turnip truck or tractor or gay pride parade currently leeching all the interstate lane space. No one got out of first gear.
“Friggin’ groovin’!” Ethan giggled and looked at the opposing lanes.
“What the- Ethel, does your son always say crap you can’t understand?”
“No, I was meaning like the ancient commercial Fahrvergnügen, Uncle Jack. That Volkswagen was screaming by at about ninety miles-an-hour in the other lane,” Ethan explained.
“Wish we were. I’ve got to pee,” Ethan’s mother said.
“I have a coffee cup,” Ethan joked.
They reached what caused the hold up. An ostrich had apparently escaped from a near-by petting zoo and dodged and danced its way away from handlers. With nowhere to run, fences and guardrail on all sides, the ostrich had no alternative but keep running from traffic. The slow-down continued into the next county.
“If we don’t reach the exit soon, I’m going to eat that thing!” exclaimed Ethan.