time to make Goulash with Grandma again! (Micro-fiction fun...why don't you
give it a go?) Use the picture prompt she provides to create simple, shortest
of short, stories to tell its tale - kudos gained for using the weekly bonus
word. Today that is LIMP.
Clouds hung limp
above the tower, like dishcloths ragged from over-use. The clock’s hands loped
over the top of its dial, not so much springing forward as hopping. Not that
the extra light removed much in the shadows. Daff wondered at the white wisps.
Would they wander lonely, or was there a bliss to be had in that un-anchored existence?
“Top of the mornin’ to you lass!” greeted Father O’Dill, “got
your head in the clouds again I see.”
Daff sighed. “What else to do, Father, rooted as I am to
“Raise your face in the East, let it drop in the West before
you rest, then again tomorrow and tomorrow after that.”
Daff nodded, noting her sisterly host also dancing and she realised
they moved in the same breeze, she and yonder clouds…