Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Speak

August 31st 2013 in Microfiction

Connie got out her pocket knife to carve the heart and their initials when her left knee suddenly bent forward and she collapsed. “Stop!” yelled a young mother holding a tiny baby, who grabbed the knife and shoved it into the nearest trash receptacle. “If you want to immortalize your love, get a tattoo! DO NO HARM!” “Just my luck,” Connie mused, “I attempt to be romantic and some crazy treehugger gets up in my grill.” She stood as nonchalantly as she could and then sprinted off. “We must always speak for the trees,” Mama Lorax said to her baby to quiet him as she watched the girl run away.

 


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The fourth little pig had brains aplenty, so he built his house out of a bamboo polymer with titanium buttresses and a two-story “panic pyramid” forming the central core of the structure. When the wolf finally came, he huffed and he puffed until he blacked out. He tried again and again until overwhelmed with exhaustion […]

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LINE 1:  “It was midnight when the dancing stopped and he took off his mask.”

LINE 2:  [your addition]

Tansy’s answer:  “And ever since – to get to sleep – I’m dependent on this flask.”

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