When I sat down to pull the prompts for my Micro Fiction, I didn’t have a clue what shape this micro tale would take, aside from leveraging Solomon. So, when I sat down to crank out this narrative, I pulled up the first line generator and was intrigued by what splashed across the screen.
“Who would have poisoned the old man’s dog?”
With that simple line, Solomon’s latest adventure played out in my mind. When the story finished, I sat behind my computer and my fingers flew across the keys, capturing the initial draft. Sometimes these drafts drastically change by the time I’m finished writing the tale. Fortunately, this brief manuscript survived the editing process, more or less intact.
While the line I pulled doesn’t appear in this tale, its sentiment runs throughout the two hundred and fifty words of Solomon’s latest Hunt.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the door rebounded off the wall, Solomon stormed into the home with his gaze cataloging everything. His weapon quivered as he inched toward the lump in the foyer. When he reached it, his fingers traced sticky and coarse fur. Instantly, his lips curled into a snarl as he whirled around. “What kind of monster kills a dog?!”
“Who’s there!” As Solomon’s cry echoed off the walls, he crept across the chamber, cocking the shotgun. “Why’d you kill the pooch?”
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