I’m taking a break from book writing/editing to bring you my contribution to this week’s flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story using the phrase “beggars can’t be choosers.”
I hope my story will surprise you.
I skulk on the edge of the wasteland, my movements quick to avoid detection. Once a bounty, this place is now barren. My stomach remembers, just as my heart remembers the once-constant presence of The Chosen.
The Other is near. I don’t want to approach, but beggars can’t be choosers. Securing sustenance is worth a little indignation.
Softly, I creep up. With expert dexterity, I jump.
The Other has me. She squeezes, barraging me with unholy shrieks. “Aw! Does Mr. Snooglepoof want some din din?”
I purr a little to appease her.
The things I do for a meal.