Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=FORCE. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.   (Link goes active Wed night).

Montay found safety in the cottage’s shed, just managing to slither his way through the woodpile stacked and placed against the east wall, and into the shed itself through a small hole near its base. In the coolness of the northern evening, he was subject to the vicissitudes of the cold-blooded form he’d chosen to transform into; add that to his bad planning to shapeshift into a snake blinded by molt and he was screwed.

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