Familiarity (part 1)

A very short piece that promises more. For Snowflake’s Challenge.


Snowflake's Challenge logo“It is remarkably foggy out there. What if she is just lost?”

Sebaster gave her a look, then curved his body so he could lick his backside.

“She’s a witch, Johannah,” he said between licks. “Witches don’t get lost. They can do location spells and shit.”

“Well, something untoward has happened!” She eyed the cat with distaste. “Do stop doing that. It’s ghastly.” She gave him a sharp jab with her beak.

“Oi!” Sebaster hissed. “Leave me alone, you scabby old crow.”

“I am, as you well know,” Johannah preened, “A raven. Corvus corax. We are far superior to—”

“Arseholes,” Sebaster interrupted. “You’re all the bloody same, you corvids. Ravens, crows, same thing.” He licked his haunch where the bird had pecked him. “I think you’ve broken the skin, you bag of shite.”

“Oh do cease your foul-mouthed prattle. Are you not worried?”

“I’ll tell you what I am – I’m fucking hungry.” He eyed the bird for a moment, considering, then shook his head. “Nah, you’d taste shite, all stringy and cracking bones. You’d get stuck in my throat.”

Johannah looked down her beak at him, then cocked her head sideways. Her bright eyes peered into the thick fog, searching for movement. It was unusual for the bird not to tell Sebaster off for swearing, and he softened his tone a little.

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I am indeed,” she said. Sebaster sighed and stretched.

“Come on, then, buggerlugs,” he said, and jumped down off the table. Johannah fluttered down beside him.

“Where are we going?”

familiar“We’d best go look for Natty G, since it looks like she’s got herself caught up in some shite or other. Do you know where she went?”

“Oh, she was going to a wondrous place of magic! A shining city to the south that o’erflows with mysterious marvels and strange, astounding things.”

“What’s this amazing place called?”

“Bury.”

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About wombat37

A Yorkshireman in the green hills of Lancashire, UK Not a real wombat, obviously, or typing would become an issue. I do have short legs and a hairy nose, however. Oh, & a distinctive smell.

Posted on December 14, 2016, in Animals, fiction, Short story, story, Writings. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

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