It was a dark and stormy night. He was disheveled and slammed my door, something I hated.
I couldn’t stay mad. He was cool, real cool.
“I need your help. My pie’s been stolen. I’m told you’re the one for the job.”
I nodded and scribbled over my notepad like I was taking notes. “Pie. Got it.”
“It was key lime.”
My mouth watered at the mention of key lime pie. I’d found one earlier that afternoon abandoned on a table outside my favorite coffee shop.
“Will you help me?”
“Of course. But first, do you want some pie?”
Word Count: 99 per the rules
Word/Idea/Food: Key Lime Pie
For Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction challenge
When you first log into WordPress and go to your reader there are usually a couple of suggestions of things you can search for. Today I logged on and the suggestions were “zombies, toddlers, philosophy” and I thought to myself … That’s fucking gold.
Here’s my toddler sized contribution to WordPress’s suggested searches today.
Tiny feet pitter-pattered down the hallway … That’s what they want you to believe anyway. Instead tiny feet were storming and dragging through the hall bringing the low groans and high pitched shrieks full circle. Any parent on the outside may suppose this is a normal toddler sized tantrum but no … What now railed against the locked door was no toddler.
“A pint sized brain eating machine.” Turns out everyone was right, there is no philosophy degree that will prepare you for life. Unless of course you want to one day end up on the right side of a domesticated door while the small daycare you thought would be “fun” and “educational” turns on you.
Don’t adults always catch what kids have? Why did we ever think the zombie apocalypse would start any other way?