In Keith’s words.
“Using this photo (below) 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 firstname.lastname@example.org 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.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”
Diary by John W. Howell © 2019
I certainly hope someone takes the time to read this message after I’m gone. I will try with the last remaining strength to chronicle the whys and wherefores of my demise. Where to begin? I suppose the best place to start, Dear Diary is in the beginning.
I have to laugh since where else would I start. The ending is quite clear. I’m held captive by this exceptionally strong being who looks like a dog. Let me assure you it is not a dog but some interstellar traveler that I managed to interrupt during one of its experiments.
Where was I? Oh, Yes. It began when I walked into the yard and beheld (I love the term beheld) this monster digging in the turf. I told it to shoo, but instead of leaving, it ran after me and cornered me in my bedroom. After what I would call a sterling resistance by Moi, I finally succumbed to its power. Although it did not speak, what it wanted was clear. Maybe it did a telepathic number on me, but I somehow knew I was to lay in the bed, and it followed.
I tried to get up, but it reached over and secured me by the neck. It is very crafty in allowing me only enough air to marginally meet my needs. Its control is absolute. Even now it sleeps but still has me in its power.
“Keith. Where are you?”
“In the bed, love.”
“Is Ranger with you?”
“Yes. Sound asleep.”
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, just writing a little story.”
“I hope you finish before I get there.”
“Not to worry, my love. I think it is done.”