Shooting Star Signs

Glad you could join us for the next brilliant episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Elliot 242
Photo credit: Quetsavia

Lying awake beneath the shimmering sky long after Darwin’s family had retreated to the shadowy corners of their web, Teddy wasn’t sure he was still glad his father had gone to the war, even just overnight. It was okay for Trevor and Barry — they were Knights, not dads. They didn’t have anybody counting on them for hugs and stories and tucking in at bedtime.

I hope Daddy didn’t think he wouldn’t be brave if he stayed home, Teddy fretted to himself. I hope he knows he’s the bravest Dad in Bog — in the whole world!

Continue reading “Shooting Star Signs”

Advertisements

Another World, Another Life

Glad you could join us for the next domesticated episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Elliot 097
Image credit: Antrey

Low and halting, like a song overwhelmed by tears, Pristalwhisp’s melodious voice told them her tale.

“I had a family — sisters and brothers and a mother who cared for all of us with gentle discipline. She used to tell us we were destined for love if we would heed her counsel. We learned cleanliness, peacefulness, and the joy of being stroked. Then, one by one, we were taken away. I never saw any of them again.

Continue reading “Another World, Another Life”

Pristalwhisp

Glad you could join us for the next sorrowful episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Elliot 095
Photo credit: Discovery Channel, UK

Cassandra’s gasp of alarm breathed out as compassion. “Oh, you poor thing!”

The last gleam of daylight glimmered in sunset blue eyes, shadowed and lonely, tired beyond life, sorrowful and aching. Grime and cobwebs overlay a ragged gray coat that didn’t quite cover patches of skin ripped naked bearing scratches, scars, and seeping sores, the trophies of lost battles, the badges of survival.

Lowering herself to the ground, the feline groaned. “Who are you? Have you come to feast on my decay?”

Continue reading “Pristalwhisp”