Through mists and madness, they came. Preceded by a blazing streak of crimson, they curled through the night like blood under dark, transparent skin, their master’s booming battle cry filling the void.
I feared then. I’m not proud of my shame, but a truth is a truth and quivering lips go undisguised. Sheer terror took me, and I feinted beneath that star-sprinkled night. To darkness I fell. To darkness I ventured.
I awoke to a diminishing Ho… Ho… Ho… and a new pair of burgundy socks. What an awful night. What a demon he was.
The elefrump flicked its long, bulbous nose, swiped at a monkling that teased it with a bullrush, missed, and stamped its massive, hairy feet. If ever a creature regretted wearing a one-piece bathing suit decorated with daffodils, it was the elefrump. Nothing else had fit! The poor creature went red with embarrassment.
Sick of being teased, and determining never to be so again, the elefrump launched itself into the lake hoping to drift away.
When the chaos settled, and all that remained was the elefrump sat in a large, muddy hole, its frown turned upside down. No more monklings. No more teasing creatures. And no more water. Mud was better, anyway.
50 Word Stories – Outfoxed
“Did you see that fox watching the chickens?”
“He was licking his lips.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say? He could ruin us, you know!”
“Oh, do explain.”
“What do you mean, he’s full?”
“I fed him dad’s dinner an hour ago.”
We found there to be an unlimited amount of time and consideration put into their dilemma. The tribespeople talked amongst themselves in whatever language it was, shook their spears and shared some strange, green smoke emitting pipe. After two or three hours, they came to a decision: They ate us.
Free squirrels: Previous owner’s gone nuts.
Bring and buy sale: No renting.
Broken whistle: I need a pea.