What was she thinking?

Fierce Bichon1

We all can be impulsive from time to time. We don’t think before speaking or can behave recklessly. I size up most situations, but sometimes it’s difficult to anticipate the reactions to our actions.

I’ll never understand my dog, Roxy. She’s a Bichon who is pint-sized at a whomping fifteen pounds of fur and energy. She’s submissive to us although she can be “independent” like most dogs.

When a dog is about Roxy’s size, she will play for hours. The kennel workers love her since she is “gregarious” and “super friendly,” much like her owner. She shies away from larger dogs.

With coyotes she gets a Wild Hair. We have a pack who frequently sniffs around our yard. It’s a part of living in Boulder County. We live in their territory. I respect them and try to stay out of their way.

Roxy doesn’t see it that way. She thinks she owns this plot of land and God help anyone or thing that trespasses.

Fierce 3

My office is upstairs with the best views of the house. While typing yet another query letter late yesterday afternoon, Roxy sat in her usual spot up on the back of couch. She likes to keep a watchful eye from her perch.

She growled and then barked. I assumed someone walked by with a dog. I kept typing. When she flew off the couch and rocketed through the house with a frenzied howl, I knew it was trouble. That particular yap is reserved for coyotes. Continue reading

Gift or Curse? Flash Fiction

Cutting across the yard on the way to school had been a habit for Oscar. But today when he gazed at the caution tape across the old McAllister place, he shivered while memories niggled like dead flies waking up on a warm windowsill in winter. Continue reading

Lurking in Darkness – 150 Word Flash Fiction

He had watched her for days.

Sheila crouched over her rose garden and snipped dead blossoms. She stood and stretched while running her hands along her lower back.

He slipped behind a tree as she crossed the yard.

After laying the shears on the garage workbench, she stepped inside the house.

He followed. Continue reading

Ice Sculptured – 200 Word Flash Fiction

Mary had brushed off her mother’s warning about the shortcut through the woods. Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her. She had been stalked.

He grabbed her by the arm. “Gotcha! I’ll give you a head start, little girl. Ready? GO!”

She bolted from the shabbily dressed man. Rounding the corner of the old mill, its blades dashed through the frigid water in the cold evening air. Then she passed a stand of evergreens. Snow covered needles fell in her wake. She slid down the embankment onto the ice-covered lake. After reaching the middle, she stopped to catch her breath. He closed the gap behind her.

“Gotcha!”

Cold fingers grasped her slender neck. With a loud crack, the icy surface opened up. Mary fell forward. He fell in.

“Help! Please help me!” He cried as he splashed around in the icy water.

She crept on her hands and knees away from him, careful not to break through and then began to sob.

Soon all she heard was the whisper of the wind.

She glanced down and screamed. He stared at her with pleading eyes while clawing at the ice beneath her. Then he slid away trapped inside the frozen tomb.

Have you ever skated on thin ice literally or metaphorically?

The photo prompt is by Lora Mitchell.

For another one of my twisted tales, click here.

You are welcome to leave the link to your flash fiction in my comment section even if you used a different photo.

A Twisted Tale – Flash Fiction

Alice hurried along the path of the ancient forest in fading light. Listening to her elders and obeying were two different things and now she was hungry and lost.

As night descended, fog slithered like silent serpents through the understory. She stopped in her tracks as it wrapped around her narrow ankles and swallowed the trail. Continue reading