Owly Death Stares

100 words about a man who's changed his mind about cheating on his wife
photo from Public Domain Archive for FFfPP week 6 

Oozing attitude – don’t mess with us, mate –, the owls catch my eye. Judgmental lot.

I won’t return to this pub – terrible choice of wall decoration, puts punters off their beer when they go the loo. The owly death stares remind me of Rita. She’ll, no doubt, give me one of hers when I stumble in later.

On the return leg, I focus on the stag – doe-eyed like Melli. She’s waiting, no doubt – I said I’d come back to hers. But I catch another glimpse of the owls’ disapproval. Smug lot.

‘Okay, owls, you win. Home to the wife it is.’

Feeding Time

I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.

100 words about animals thriving in difficult conditions
(c) Barbara W. Beacham

‘Help me.’

Why did I keep trying? I’d shouted myself hoarse hours ago; I knew nobody would save me. I’d been warned. I didn’t believe the tales. The zoo animals I remembered from before the collapse had taken over the park and NW1? Pu-lease.

But I’d seen proof that animals were much better at adapting to circumstances humans found challenging. If I made it back – unlikely, given the state of my leg wound – I’d report the beast that had attacked me must have been a cross between wolf and labrador.

No, chances were I’d make this bird a handsome dinner.


It’s Monday, it’s Finish the Story time. Join in, it’s fun!

If you’re a regular reader, this might remind you of The Zoologist’s Favourite Tiger. Same world, a bit later, I reckon. I love this idea but I’ll have to forget about this world. It’s only six days until NaNoWriMo and I’ve Scarlett to rewrite, so I cannot run with any plot bunnies this year…

Raise your hand if you’re nanoing – I think I’ve lost count.


100 words about the fear of butterflies
This week’s FFfAW photo prompt is provided by TJ Paris.

Those differences between Nina and me – you know, the ones we’d agreed to overcome – flared up again on the walk home after Sunday lunch.

I spotted the monster long before she did. You know how I almost know they’re there before I see them? So I tried to make her look anywhere but at it. Didn’t work, obviously. She saw it and went: Wait, I need to take a picture. Isn’t it pretty? I stayed on the path; she told me to come closer. That’s when it burst out of me.

‘Vile fluttery things. They’re nothing but overrated, colourful moths.’

The Zoologist’s Favourite Tiger

tiger, Jae Jae; 100 words about escaped zoo tigers and lions
That’s Jae Jae, not Cinta, actually (c) 2014, Sonya

‘Body, throat ripped out. Another one, many others. Bite marks from tigers and lions. Have they ganged up? They must have, neither group could have taken out this many soldiers on their own. Remarkable development.’

I stop recording. They didn’t sent me to Regent’s Park for research – I set the big cats free when the water rose, I have to get them back into their enclosures again.

I didn’t think they’d work together.

A low growl in the tall grass – Cinta. But when she shows her face, I know the stun gun isn’t going to cut it, despite my modifications.