I found her by the pond, as useless a mermaid as any. Piecemeal I bound her: finger-bones to fiddle-pegs, breastbone to sound post. I strung my bow with her hair. The wedding-march has begun: all that remains is to hear her sing. Her sister must have missed her voice.
“I eat Zebras,” Lion told the nervous herd on Monday, “but not today; I have had a wildebeest and am sated.”
“I like to eat Zebras,” Lion said Tuesday, “but not today; this rock is warm and I’m tired.” The zebras shrugged and kept grazing.
Wednesday there was one less zebra.
Moral: when someone tells you who they are, believe them.
“Whut is that smell? Bernard, go to the bathroom!”
“It’s not me. Pilot light is out.”
“I’d like just one day where nothin’ breaks in this house.”
“Stop complainin’. It’s not broke. Hold your nose and light a fancy-smellin candle.”
Continuing what’s apparently our December 2017 theme, the delightful Robin Quackenbush has allowed me to host her entry into this week’s YeahWrite microprose challenge. Show her some love in the comments.