Friday Fictioneers is a weekly dip into the rolling waves of flash fiction. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less based on a photo prompt. I am a sporadic participant, but today the prompt fit into my WIP in some odd fashion.
If you want to flex and tighten your writing muscles, visit Rochelle’s site to participate.
Sweet Mother Merryweather
I was chopping the head from an uncooperative bat when someone knocked. The bat wriggled away leaving my thumb punctured.
The knock repeated. I sucked coppery blood. Few visitors make it past the guards.
She stood outside, soft and young.
“Uh oh,” muttered the tardy guard.
“Uh oh, is right.” I turned him to ash.
“Mrs. Merryweather?” She didn’t scream. I began to like her.
“It’s Ms, dear. Never let relationships define you.”
“I heard your apprentice died. Violently. A lot of blood.” Her pink tongue darted past soft lips.
“How opportunistic. Come in.”
Will I regret it?