“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s three, six-minute eggs. Not six, three-minute eggs.” He pushed the silver tray away. “Who in their right might would eat six, three-minute eggs? They wouldn’t even be bloody cooked.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She gathered up the tray in shaking hands. “The cook…”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, girl. Just get me my breakfast.”
With a snap he flipped open the newspaper and started reading the business section, as she walked backwards out of the room.
“He wouldn’t eat them,” she said in a low voice to her husband, the cook. “He wants three six-minute eggs, but if you cook them that long will it affect the cyanide in the water?”
He shrugged and tipped some more of the poison into the boiling water.
“Only one way to find out.”
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The sound of the hive was soothing. The drone of the bees busily doing their lifes work was a constant reminder that he could provide for himself, that never again would he be reliant on someone else to feed him.
A small cheeky piece of fiction. Enjoy.
This short story was inspired by Nikki at Flying Through Water’s Penguin Prompt: Relax. I’ve probably taken it in a strange direction, but this is what came out. I hope you enjoy.
The short story below started off as a joke between friends. I took it too far (as most writers do) and wrote about it. Enjoy.
A little bit of fiction inspired by watching kangaroos hop in front of our car. It’s not as cute as it sounds. Also no kangaroos were hurt in the writing of this story.
This short story is again, about death. Not scary, just a little sad. I really need to move on from this topic.
Another one that gave me goosebumps as I wrote it. Part of this story actually happened to me. I’ll let you wonder about which part.
I’ve been writing about death a bit lately. Not sure why? But I’ll post it as it comes. Enjoy
This whole writing fiction every week, isn’t as frightening as I thought it would be.
Latest piece below.