Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Deep Woods Drabble: Just for Fun

Deep Woods Drabble

By David Hartley Mark

            Mortimer Owl walked over the glen.
            “Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!” cried a motion of field-mice, tuxedo-colored, as they scampered by. The last one in line, barely two days old, thumbed her nose at the wily old hunting-bird as she trotted past him, and stuck out her mousy tongue, before ducking under a rotting, old moss-covered barrow….
            --Which was the last thing she did, on this earth, in this life.

            “Tastes like chicken, and a good thing, too,” cogitated Mortimer, burping up a few slippery whiskers of rodent, and preening his face-feathers, as he spread out his wings and took to the evening air. A late-harvest’s, bulging refulgent moon was rising. 





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