Glad you could join us for the next precarious episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning tothe beginning, and reading really fast…
“Well if it isn’t Vernon the Valet-ison,” Spike sneered, reclining on a curved leaf, attended by an impossibly handsome young wasp. “I hafta admit, I didn’t expect her to send you. Arturo, bring our guest something to eat; he’s looking a little peak-ed. Or is it ‘piqued’?”
He looked Vernon up and down as the blushing Arturo, eyes downcast, sped off in the direction of the battered butterfly. “Sit,” Spike instructed, “let’s catch up.”
“I don’t have time to indulge you, Spike. Show me the Princess so I can report back to the Queen before she wonders what happened to me.”
Glad you could join us for the next cringe-worthy episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning tothe beginning, and reading really fast…
Maroon, green, yellow — they stood like soldiers in the grass, waiting so long for a command that never came, they had taken root. Now they thrummed with their thirst for blood, each with its own voice in its own low tone, waiting with the patience of the earth itself. The smell of honey and decay thickened the air.
Elliot’s throat shriveled to a dusty sponge. “I should have asked Marcel for water before I left.”
As he passed the first of the blooms, it shivered with a sloshing sound. “Water. They have water inside. Of course,” he told himself, “they catch the rain. If I can tip one over, I should be able to pour it out.”
At the mouth of the shortest, Elliot stopped dead. “Maybe not.” He swallowed dry air and hurried on.
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