I remember it well, maybe differently.
Not sure how I thought the cushions would protect me from the brass-headed monster but, when it appeared in the hallway calling my name, I headed for what I thought was the safest place: under a selfmade fort of cushions pulled quickly from the sofa.
I lay there hoping it wouldn’t see me as it stalked the room, calling my name, saying it would eat me.
I breathed, I hoped.
But then: “There you are!” it pronounced. I screamed, flung the cushions at it, stood up and…
...saw that it was only my dad.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:
Not sure how I thought the cushions would protect me from the brass-headed monster but, when it appeared in the hallway calling my name, I headed for what I thought was the safest place: under a selfmade fort of cushions pulled quickly from the sofa.
I lay there hoping it wouldn’t see me as it stalked the room, calling my name, saying it would eat me.
I breathed, I hoped.
But then: “There you are!” it pronounced. I screamed, flung the cushions at it, stood up and…
...saw that it was only my dad.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:
PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy
This week's picture prompt was a repeat from a previous year, and one which I had written a story for before, which can be found here.
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