Here is my second contribution to Purgatorian’s Flash Fiction Friday project, go there to check out the rules. I tried a little experiment here with a sequel to my FFF#26 post… which was not expressly referred to in said rules, and since I still have no snakes in my home I’m assuming I didn’t break any of the rules… but it may also be because I’m on the second floor!
The transom. I forgot the transom…
…above the main entrance to my pod-space had a switch on it that the previous tenant had said was there for emergencies. Only he’d never had occasion to use it and only mentioned it because their pet octocat had tried to hide up there just as he was leaving- fetching it down made him remember the switch. I figured this qualified as an emergency. I ran inside, climbed up so I could see over the transom by pulling a dragonling medi-cage nearer, and thumbed the switch. Nothing! I thumbed it a couple of times again. Still nothing. Well, considering I didn’t know what was supposed to happen- if anything- I assumed that nothing happened because I could neither see nor hear anything that hadn’t been there before… then I realised the noise had changed. It was no longer the snarling-growling-scraping-chewing sound I’d heard for the last five minutes. It was now more like a snarling-growling-crooning. I risked a glance, and realised the dragonlings were whistling too! Clearly something was affecting the vampire mice and the dragonlings, but I couldn’t hear or feel anything. And then they exploded! All of them- the vampire mice and my dragonlings! When I came to, it was probably not long after it happened, because everything outside the pod was still steaming. I wasn’t worried about my eco-dome, the vampire mice hadn’t breached it and the next meteor shower would clean it right up. I WAS worried about my financiers, and my paid up customers- how was I going to explain to them that I had blown the lot of them up somehow!? Bloody fargin hell. Now I knew the reason for other breeders using the indigenous (and very ugly) dragonettes instead of the prettier imported dragonlings!
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.