Friday Fictioneers is here again, see what tales we have to spin! With a photo from Indira Mukherjee, we write what our imaginations see. Click the frog at the bottom if you have the time and see what other stories you might find.
The rumbling monster roared by him, a brightly colored blur across the otherwise peaceful street. The pavement was hot against his belly as he cowered, barely able to avoid the thundering bus. He lay on the sun-baked concrete, panting.
The ground slowly ceased to tremble and he raised his head. In a flash he was on his feet, head swiveling as he examined the now-empty street and took a few exploratory steps. With a flick of his bushy tail, the little squirrel scampered across the street to safety where a cache of acorns was waiting.
If he could find it.