A picture says a
thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a #story, a description, a poem, a
metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about
this picture.
Be sure to tag #writeworld in your
block!
http://writeworld.org/post/108392134949/writers-block-a-picture-says-a-thousand-words
The man approached the small town. He
was tired and needed a room for the night and he assumed the town would provide
one.
But when he got to the centre of town
(marked by a circular garden with a sign post in the centre of it) he noticed
something very unusual. The sign had been raked by an animal with four
claws. A very tall animal. One that could both reach the sign, mark it and do
it with such control that it didn't knock it over.
And then, after that, it had torn the
door off one house. And left it in the centre of the path. The house on the
right fared no better. It sported an enormous hole in the roof and a broken
window. The front door was open or missing as well, and he saw that it was
actually a shop; not a home.
He stuck his head inside. “Hello?”
An older man, looking harried and
stressed, stood up from a crouch. He held a dustpan and broom in his hand. He
made the kind of small groan that someone with back trouble makes when they
stand up.
“Sorry,” the stranger apologised. “I
was just looking for a room for the night.”
“Do you mind sleeping on the floor?”
“No.”
“I’ll pay you to sleep here.”
“Pay me?” he queried.
“Why not? You look like a strong young
man.”
A roof over his head, and coin in his
pocket? He was thinking about it and in the meantime, the man spoke again, “I’m
so tired. And I’m too old for this.”
“And your back hurts.”
He got an odd look for that.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll do it?” the shopkeeper checked.
“Throw in a plate of that stew I can
smell and I’ll do it.”
“Done.” The shopkeeper handed him the
dustpan and broom.
By the time he had finished making sure
the floor was glass free, dinner was on the table. He ate with gusto but he was
going to earn it. It was a brave man who kept watch against whatever it was
that had attacked the town and had claws that large.
Turning all the lights out, the owner
headed off to his own room out the back and his impromptu guard bedded down on
the floor. Pity the shopkeeper didn’t see him; he turned around three times
before he curled up in a neat bundle and went to sleep. His hearing was good
enough to notice an intruder.
But there wouldn’t be one, he was
thinking that this had worked so well, he might be able to milk it for a few
days and then try it in the next town.
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