I bequeath to you my best left shoe
These past ten years I’ve had no use of it
What use when I’ve no foot to put in it?
When your father pushed me over the railings at the zoo
He left me legless
Crocodiles… though he claimed he didn’t know it
Glad he didn’t bequeath to you
His love of square ribbed dark bottles
His passion for the fiery spirit
That nothing within him could inhibit
Fighting, smashing, yelling
I’m glad he’s gone, my son
85 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Bequeath
Yikes!
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I have a tendency to be “not nice” with my micro-fictions
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… and that’s OK. 🙂
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🙂
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A wonderfully creative use of the picture prompt Crispina.
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Thank you. Although I’d used it for the CCC a while back, it seemed just right for my take on Sammi’s prompt
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Yowza. Quite a different take from the other one using this shoe!!
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Yea, I’m versatile! Yay! I’m laughing. Thank you, Dale
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Hahaha!! Yes, you are
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🙂
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Well, this is weird as all heck. A somewhat different tone from you than in recent past, Crispina.
But, then again, a good author should be able to manage many a different tone. I sometimes worry I get locked up in my peculiar sense of humor.
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It started with bequeathing the shoe. Why only one shoe? And it kinda flowed from there
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A bit of dark magic. Nicely done, if painful.
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Thank you. 🙂
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