Five Sentence Fiction: Bleary-Eyed and Wanting

 

BEGIN TRANSMISSION.

 

Well, while I managed to dodge naming this story something so painfully obvious, I don’t think I accomplished the same with the story itself. I don’t know if I could have helped it, though. I see the word, “hunt,” one of my favourite words ever (right up there with “engine,” for those who are wondering), I need to give it its due. This due does happen to include waxed mustaches. It’s part of the fine print. Somewhere.

 

Have fun~

 


 

 

Word of Inspiration: Hunt

Word Count: 149

Genre: Realistic Fiction (probably)

Title: Bleary-Eyed and Wanting

 

Our quarry was smarter than we had expected- we never expected to be outfoxed so completely. A good friend of mine, he always kept his mustache well-curled and his hunting cap lowered against the sun and the wind from his galloping horse, became a bit of a parable- a hunter becoming the hunted (he would have hated that I compared him to literature- he always thought the liberal arts were for womenfolk). Our quarry burst from the bushes, brandishing some sharpened stick and a furious battle cry; he took down my friend with one good stab. Never before have I felt such a rush while in the hunt. Never before have we set a man loose, naked and afraid into the thick brambles and bushes, that I have had such an urge to his mount head above my mantle and have socialites gather around it at cocktail parties.

 

 

 

 


 

 

Okay, show of hands, who here thought of the Jumanji hunter/Colonial Mustard guy while reading the story?

Well, I’m raising my hand, at least. No really, this sentence is a pain to type with just one hand.

I had to restrain myself from writing a pith helmet onto the guy’s head out of artistic integrity and respect for the self as a thinking, living organism.

 

It’s probably a bad sign once your eyes start burning due to you looking at a screen for so darn long. I say “probably” but I have no real concrete proof. Furthermore, I say “probably” as if I mean to stop doing the thing that is turning my eyes into raisins. This is an enormous LIE, of course.

The sooner all computer screens can turn into Kindle screens, the better. And I don’t mean Kindle Fire ones. I mean the ones that look like computer-coloured paper.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

END TRANSMISSION.

 

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One comment on “Five Sentence Fiction: Bleary-Eyed and Wanting

  1. What an interesting take. Man is both the most dangerous of hunters, as well as quarry. Can’t say I’d want to mount a head on my wall, but you’re right about the intriguing cocktail conversation that might come of it. Good piece.

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