Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=BRAND. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  

After some time of sitting in sisterly fashion staring out at the big lake’s waves, and having found peace, if not answers to their dilemma, Rockmouse sighed and turned to Ferah.

“What are you holding back?” she asked Ferah.

After some time, Ferah answered, “I can tell you that my brother, Montay, is stuck in the form of a molting snake, and hidden in the shed behind the cottage—much as I love him, he can be impulsive and make bad decisions and that luckily this buys us a little time—and that beyond that, I could tell you but then I would have to kill you,” she laughed that final phrase.

“Fuck you, Ferah,” Rockmouse said with humor, adding “I have a cousin like that—same brand—in Fernlodth…can’t live with ‘em and can’t live without ’em.”

Both turned and jumped to their feet at the sound of a blast of flame from the Weber grill topside, followed by gnomic roars of laughter, and both had the same realization that they’d better abandon their haven and go join the “boys” before the lot a. singed the dinner or b. worse, burned down the cottage.    

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)

(To be continued)