Watcher Doings 8

/ Liz H-H
juicy tangerine wedges

The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: PILOT . Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. (Link goes active Wed night)  The Café is open. Come as you are!

The blueberry muffins (fully cooked, though the oven’s pilot light had snuffed out early) had been devoured, and Fernlodth now lay on his back, sighing sweet contentment with a rounded belly, while Rockmouse sat crisscross, her one nibbled-on muffin cradled on her upper knee; it was not that she wasn’t hungry, but that she sensed the presence of a increasingly hostile presence above them.

“The sun’s shifted and you two must be hot from all that Mumblety-Peg,” said Ferah, gracefully rising to her feet. She caught Rockmouse’s eye, lifting a brow and nodding toward the screened porch of the cabin, adding “I think we’ll all be more…comfortable on the porch.”

Invitation accepted and screen door opened by their hostess, Fernlodth rolled and pushed himself to his feet, padding toward the porch and throwing himself on the couch with a grunt and a crackle of wicker.

Rockmouse followed, cautious, but then wheeled about and crouched knife-ready, staring up at the cat-faced woman.

Ferah stood with back slightly arched, growling soft and low through bared teeth, staring up into the tree, whispering, “Not these two, not today, Montay.”   

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2025)

(To be continued)

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