Flash Fiction: Drip Drip!

Mum pegged the stuffed animals on the clothesline and returned inside with her basket.

“I freaking hate wash day,” said Froggie, dripping water drops.

“Oh shut-up, at least we’re not in the dryer this time,” said Puss, hanging by the tail. 

“It’s ridiculous. The kid gets nits and we all suffer.”

“At least the bugs don’t stain. I still have a brown spot on my belly from —”

“We swore never to talk about that fatal day. Rest in peace Piggy.”

“Do you think the fairies will come to save us and take us to Fairy Land?”

“We can only hope, Puss.”