Traps are everywhere. We cannot venture out. We are cornered in this house we called home before the enemy showed its face.
All exits are blocked. Food supplies are dwindling. This is war.
Last night he chased us behind the refrigerator with a broom. Called us vermin.
We are doomed.
Alison Cooper is a UK artist residing in Los Angeles. She loves the challenge of culling words to get to the core, and has had her short stories published in Everyday Fiction and 50-Word Stories.
I cannot subdue this creature that flaps wildly against the wind which barrels down the beach.
I lose my grip and it wrenches free, wheeling in defiant flight over churning waters. I watch it collapse in mid-air and dive with the pelicans into green waves.
My Sunday paper is gone.
Alison Cooper is a UK artist residing in Los Angeles. She loves the challenge of culling words to get to the core, and has had her short stories published in Everyday Fiction and 50-Word Stories.
Nature is waging a clandestine war. The wolf-dog staggers stiffly to her feet, tap-taps a path across the darkened kitchen to the back door, pauses to sniff the chill night air.
She raises a white muzzle to the moon. Howls.
Cut it out, Luna!
She turns awkwardly, retreating to civilization.
Alison Cooper is a UK artist, residing in Los Angeles. She loves the challenge of the culling words to get to the core. Her first short story was recently published in Everyday Fiction.