Flash Fiction: Eagles Frigid Goats Hourly

Nothing puts my stupid cap on like a creative writing group. Not sure what it is, the show pony in me? I love to make people laugh and in session writing exercises feels like a performance art. No, I can’t deliver every single time with an in session exercise, but a majority of my in session writing is humorous and bloody ridiculous. Amusingly my at home writing is more dramatic, which is why I raise an eyebrow when people try pigeon holing me as a writer. Or people find out I have a Masters degree specialising in Script Writing and assume that’s my format of choice. Please don’t type cast me.

For this session we were required to write sentences, without giving it too much thought, every word in alphabetical order (the crap that comes out is incredible). For example;

Alex beams cutely deadly. Enough food goes healthy. I joke keenly. Leesa moan nails openly. Pee queen reeks so trash. Umbrellas, violins wrestle. Xmas yokes zap. Alligators birth cigarettes daily. Eagles frigid goats hourly.

Once sentences are created, group members pick which sentence they want you to write a story about. My group picked for me; Eagles frigid goats hourly. I guess I had coming – thanks guys.

Flash Fiction

Eagles Frigid Goats Hourly
Eddy hated goats with a passion. On the hour every hour they demanded. Horny beasts. A feather or two will do. Eddy considered going bald but that wouldn’t be very bird like. Eagles still had pride, except on the hour every hour. Goats on the other hand were lame, waiting for the hour every hour, sipping on milk. He wasn’t bitter at all. Daisy, a lass with horns, was knocked up. The baby couldn’t be his. Who would the child take after? Eagle or goat? A goat with wings or an Eagle with horns? He’d be man about this. He’ll run away. But birds they nest.

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