For today’s post, another selection of my stories from the #vss365 hashtag on Twitter. I hope you’ll enjoy them!
“Jellied eels, a London tradition.” The shopkeep nodded to a tub swirling with dark, snaky shapes. “Mine are the freshest each day.”
“I’m searching for a friend,” she hissed.
“Anyone I might know?”
She pulled back her hood, her hair a writhing black mass. “Perhaps.”
The pirates crept into the cracked metal eggshell, chased by crashing waves. “A mer-man’s lair,” one whispered.
“Nay, I know the bridge of a ship when I see one.” The captain smirked. “My question is, do they have gold up there?”
Their eyes followed his to the stars.
He squeezed his wife’s hand. “Come on, honey. Push.”
She pushed the button, and a door slid open. An awkward tangle of iron limbs shambled through, hissing steam through its teeth. Oil-slick eyes blinked innocently.
“Congratulations!” cried the doctor. “It’s a #girl.”
“Should these bougie fat cats feast, while we settle for table scraps?”
“Are you meek little mice, happy without a fair share?”
“Then follow me!”
With a chorus of squeaks, they stormed the pantry. Moments later, two very surprised-looking cats ran out.
Fighting off panic, Jill peeks from the closet.
A downlight flickers over a pool of blood. Two bodies, bite marks on their throats.
Footsteps near. The gleam of a silver sword. She licks her lips and tastes copper. Her heart would be pounding if it still beat at all.
“End of the road, sweetheart,” her pursuer sneers.
The stolen mare limps toward a precipice, struck lame by an arrow. Emma bends to her ear. “Come on, girl.”
With an uncertain whinny, they leap. The wind whips. Jagged rocks rush to meet them. The mare’s wings unfurl.
Thanks for reading! As always, stay tuned for more short stories next week.