“So are you in?” asked Janice, brandishing a stack of brand new business cards.
“I like your enthusiasm,” said the investor, “but…”
Janice frowned. “But what?”
“I’m not sure the world really needs a Leviathan Tamer.”
He felt differently in the morning, in a sort of slobbery, lifeless, half-digested way.
This story was based on a title suggested by @MisterFiendZero.
Priscilla the porcupine kept a tidy house. She dusted regularly and opened the windows so she could smell the lavender in the garden.
Hers was an idyllic home.
On Tuesdays she flew a flag and shot at the tax man. The one thing Priscilla loved more than tidiness was freedom.
Normally I try to take prompts from different people, but when @MisterFiendZero gave me this prompt, along with the previous one, I knew I had to go with both.
Slithering, sliding, slipping… Rory the ravenous raccoon eased his way through the gap under the newly painted fence with a patience that belied his urgency.
There! He was through, and scampering into the safety of the woods.
They found Elvis dead that morning. The orange paw prints were never reported.
This story was based on a prompt from @MisterFiendZero.