It’s time for a 100-word story with Friday Fictioneers, a writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thanks, Rochelle for your leadership every week. Thanks to Roger Bultot for providing this week’s photo.
My story follows.
(Horror: 100 words)
Their Latest Act
The taste of metal tainted her tongue. Laine shook the salt shaker into her mouth. No use. The blood was still there and she spat it out, crouched with her hips off the floor.
Her mother had loved the green parrots who flew in from Mexico. They had watched their mating dance once from her patio, their gentle fluttering of feathers high in the sky. It was a performance for her, her mother would say.
No mother, it never was. They have the power of flight and beaks for pecking your eyeballs of your sockets until you’re blind. That’s all.
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