Another prompt by Keith Channing. In his words, “Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 – for reasons I have yet to fathom, pingbacks don’t seem to be working.
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 is the photo.
Morning by John W. Howell © 2016
“Good morning, Trevor. What a beautiful day today.”
“Wha. Oh no. Is it morning already?”
“Yes it is and time to start the day.”
“Aw, no boss. I had a rough night last night. I need a couple a more hours in the sack.”
“The sack, as you call it, is my bed, and I would like to make it up now.”
“I’m telling you boss. I’m not a well dog. I think I’m running a fever.”
“Sure you are. I heard you making that ruckus last night. What was it the Johnson’s cat?”
“The Johnson’s cat? Paaalease. I wouldn’t walk across the street to give that brat a drink of water if she were dying of thirst.”
“My. my. This statement is coming from the guy who couldn’t seem to leave her alone. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on Trevor. Let’s have out with the truth.”
“Nothing happened. Could we forget about it?”
“Now I know something’s fishy.”
“Good choice of words.”
“Ah ha. There is something then.”
“Not really. It is a small thing.”
“That has you laying in bed like a sick dog.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you, but not a word to mom okay?”
“You have my word, not a word.”
“Mittsy, that’s the Johnson’s cat’s name. Mittsy came up to the back door and tried to get through the dog door.”
“Well, she does that all the time and I know her name.”
“I’m trying to tell a complete story. Anyway, she was carrying a fish.”
“A fish?”
“Gee boss. Have you lost your hearing or something?”
“No, I was surprised to hear she had a fish. What happened next?”
“I told her to drop the fish or no entrance.”
“So she dropped it.’
“Well not exactly. She ran into the house and I lost her for a while.”
“But you found her.”
“Yes.”
“Where was she?”
“I don’t think ‘was’ is the correct word. You should ask ‘Where is she'”
“Okay, so where is she?”
“I was trying to save you from this, but no you had to know. Pull back the covers.”
“Oh my gosh. Mittsy. What are you doing here? And why is this disgusting fish in my bed.”
“If I may boss, she snuck in your bed while you were sound asleep. Yes, that fish is disgusting.”
“Meow?”
“What did she say?”
“She doesn’t speak human boss. She said she brought the fish as a gift. You should have let me take care of this.”
“Everyone out.”
