What happens when mankind ventures out into space and encounters ancient gods who would really rather be left alone?
I wrote this during lockdown, in response to Zombie Pirate Publishing’s second annual one week writing challenge. And, yes, it was indeed a challenge. But I’m happy with the result.
You guys will get to read it eventually. This is just a teaser, while I catch my breath and move on to the next (self-imposed) challenge.
Cheers.
Ozzy edged forward, inch by inch, sniffing the air, eyes wide, all the while toying with his most vicious growl, keeping it ready for the right moment.
The old man looked down at the dog, and his expression changed. Barbara wasn’t sure what it changed to, but it was certainly different. She took a step forward, but he had already dropped to one knee, supporting himself with one hand on the shaft of the scythe, and reaching forward with his other hand.
Barbara’s couldn’t move. She wanted to. Needed to. Had to leap forward and scoop her baby off the floor before… before…
Ozzy trotted across the room and sniffed the hand held out to him. He looked up at its owner. He turned to look at Barbara. Then he licked the hand and panted when it moved to scratch him behind the ear.
“Adorable. What flavour are they?”
Barbara squeaked.
No comments:
Post a Comment