Carrots. Original public domain image from Wikimedia Commons
Family, friends and relations were spread all about the warren’s floor, bellies pooched upwards, at the insistence of their innards. The holiday feast, so successful, meant that nobody had energy enough to grab the remote and turn on the football game. “Oh my!” they all sighed. Continue reading
Act 1
(A moment of peace, the calm in the eye of the storm.)
Just a few short hours ago, there‘d been a clatter of metal against glass, the whine of motors rotating through a thick sludge, the wet thunk of an awkward body, a snip and rustle of evisceration, the rasp of metal on metal, and a clang of slamming doors.
“I think we’ve done all we can for now.” Karen wipes her brow and surveys the damage. “When are the troops supposed to arrive?”
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