This week’s photo prompt is provided by H.R.R. Gorman. Thank you H.R.R.!
”Donald, come out. We know you are in here. We can help you but we need you to cooperate with us. We know you are scared but no one will hurt you. You can trust us. We are your friends. We only want to talk. ”
The tall man in charge was getting annoyed and I could sense that he was also afraid. Afraid of not finding Donald. I tried to hide my amusement at his obvious distress. It really wasn’t a funny situation.
The tall man kept looking anxiously for Donald to come out.
I jokingly stated that Donald was probably contemplating his surrender but the white flag was out of the question since he was out of toilet paper.
The tall man whose name was ironically George Smalley wasn’t amused and told me to shut up.
I silently turned the remote on and Donald the duck was suddenly spinning and quacking his way to end the hostage standoff on top of a Roomba.
“That is Donald? ”
”Duck, duck… Goose, ” I cheerfully called over my shoulder.
The instructions were clear and convincing her to accept the job was easy, except for the last sentence of the contract. Jump. She wondered what that meant. She swallowed her fear when the elevator stopped with a shuddering groan. They were suspended between floors with a gaping hole in the middle. The only way to get out was to… and eyeing the distance between her and her family, she silently finished the last part of the sentence.
“MARS! Stop laughing! Read this and tell me it’s not Helios! That cheater! I could have anyone with this geography! ” Gaia screamed and pointed to the computer screen.
For Sale By Cosmos :
Nice, bright, little star ideal for a solar system with 9 planets and no black holes. Gassy little gem has a steamy mix of helium,
carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, and oxygen. Perfect for tiny space rocks without the hassle of a hypergiant. UV ray‘s optional.
Gaia continued ” …Do you know what this means?”
Mars shook his head and sighing replied:” I’m afraid to ask .”
”Listen. That was the worst thing I ever had to do. Bury him in a scrap heap. Oil change for my best friend. At the store, they were out of the usual, 10 W 30. And the old lady promised that he would be fine with synthetic oil. I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, I told myself. I didn’t know that he was allergic to anything else. I swear on my life.”
”She’s a metallurgist? ”
”I think so. An alchemist is the same thing, right? “
”No, not if that’s her riding that broom and cackling, ” said Tom, pointing.