The sky bore down heavily on the farm all day, threatening at every moment to unleash its fury on the animals and fields.
Peggy spent most of her day monitoring the barnyard, shooing animals into their pens, and keeping a watchful eye on the sky – there would be no time left to tend to the laundry and scrubbing and supper. In late afternoon as the air grew electric, she chased the chickens into their coop, gathered the last of the animals in the barn, then stepped down into the storm cellar and bolted herself inside.
A howling evil soon pressed angrily against the cellar door, shredding the earth above and tearing at the door before it ran off and disappeared into sudden silence.
Peggy opened the door and stepped up into the blinding sunlight, blinking her eyes hard against the sun’s brightness and her own amazement – their farm seemed untouched aside from the damaged chicken coop door.
“Well never mind,” she said as the chickens filed out stupidly and clucked their way across the yard, ignorant to the terror that had passed over them and to the end that awaited the unlucky soul Peggy grabbed as she headed toward the kitchen.
Join us each week at Ivy Walker‘s blog where writers are challenged to spin a tale in six sentences – no more, no less.
This week’s cue is CHICKEN.
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