Why Ground Squirrels Left the Trees (100 words)
The fog thing comes. Scritch-scratch the tree trunks. Rustle-rush whip-dry grass.
Chitter and chat and roll our forage into hidey hollows like any a day. Like we don’t know. The mists creep crest and dale. Danger a dream-span from dire. Only the bitty-bobs peep-weep. Too wee to ken a deke.
The mothers a-work at grass and ground. Above we mime time the trees. Nut and seed all our critter concern. Acorn-cram cheeks, flash tail. While mother paws plow apart danger-urge of up! Up!
Must burrow down, now. Down windy deep so fog teeth mulch-chomp and howl empty.
Then, we win.
Directions: Write a scene or an entire story of 100 words on the nose (no more, no fewer), inspired by this photograph. No judging. All fun. (Normal Flash! Friday guidelinesregarding content apply.)
Don’t forget to add your Twitter handle & link to your blog, pretty please.
And a few words on how your week’s going would be so very marvelous!
This week’s Warmup Wednesday challenge: Make your protagonist an animal (real or imagined).