The doctors were amazed at the damage caused to her foot by simply dropping the iron on it, but Sadie still didn’t mention the elephant in the room. Bemused, they’d tested her synapses and brain functions extensively, as this was the third time Sadie had dropped the iron in three months.
She didn’t like lying, especially to authority, but she didn’t want them taking Ella away. Ella was clumsy but it wasn’t her fault, she was still young and a living room in a terraced house can be an extremely small space if you have big feet you’re still growing into.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.
This was a flash fiction written to a prompt, which didn’t get published originally, as I decided it was maybe too daft. However, I have a category on here, Strange Brew, just for such abominations and whimsy and as I quite like it now, here it is:
The moon in aspic was entering the solar plexus. The sun rose a day ahead of schedule and beavers abounded; if anything should abound it ought to be bluebells or rats.
A worry gnawed at The World like another beaver. His design was in chaos.
He scratched his Norwich, a tethered goat slipped down the crack of a mild earthquake and a crossdressing partridge squawked “plastic” from somewhere north of Ushuaia.
The World pondered the drawing board.
He’d used colours before but they’d assimilated all sorts of unintended baggage.
“Perhaps if I went back to monochrome and jettisoned the oil.”