BREAKFAST
Their
shoes crunching on frosty grass, the boys followed the trail of footprints.
“Bet they’re
George’s,” said Harry, “He always gets there first.”
“Teacher’s
pet,” sneered Paul, then stopped. “What’s that?”
“A tree
stump, stupid.”
“It wasn’t
there yesterday.”
They eyed
the hunched shape warily.
“It could
be a dead cow,” Paul suggested.
“Wrong
colour,” said Harry, “Maybe a tramp?”
“Too big.”
“Kick it
and see.”
“You can
if you want – it freaks me out.”
They ran
past, giving the hump a wide berth.
The ogre
sighed philosophically.
There’d
be others less timid and besides, he was still full of George.
............................................................................................
This week's prompt had me squinting at the screen muttering, "What's that?" hence my story.
I must thank Rochelle for posting the photo and for hosting Friday Fictioneers where many other writers have interpreted it differently. Follow the Blue Frog trail on her blog.
https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/
