There came a fork in the yellow brick road, so I took the rainbow path less traveled and left Kansas far behind.
A quaint and eerily welcoming chapel materialized at the end of the line and beckoned me to its door.
The tiny Irish preacher invited me in, then he offered me a pint of emerald green lager along with some advice: “Always be a first-rate version of yourself and not a second-rate version of someone else, oh and you probably shouldn’t have eaten those mushrooms.”
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 184. Photo prompt by Dave Herring. WC 90.
“Only time will tell,” she said with a smile and mischievous wink.
“Oh, well we’ve got nothing but time,” I replied while spinning the hands backward.
Time flies when you’re having fun.
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 165. Photo prompt by Stijn te Strake. WC 40.
I knew it had followed me and this time I caught a glimpse as the setting sun reflected off the shiny exterior, so I lured it toward the alleyway where my trap laid waiting.
From beneath my net, the small door on what I originally thought was a remote-controlled drone exploded and a little humanoid tumbled onto the concrete.
It stood clumsily brushing itself off before turning to me and shaking a tiny fist while unrecognizable sounds came vehemently rushing out of its scrunched up face.
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 61. Photo prompt by Caleb Woods. WC 86.
He awoke to the morning sun making it difficult to determine if what he saw before him was what he thought it was.
Rubbing his eyes, he focused hard on the vision of a rare white stag only a couple of yards away.
The moment seemed to linger on in the quiet but abruptly ended when the stag bolted, and he was left alone to consider the meaning of this omen.
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 35. Photo prompt by Rebecca Johnston. WC 71.