Bad Day for Og

What we see here is the return of the Wednesday Indies Unlimited flash fiction challenge (at least on my end they didn’t stop in October). I feel like I need to get back up to speed with these mini stories. Amazing what taking close to a month of from them can do to you…

But never fear, this month is going to be a flash fiction bananza. We won’t have just the stories on Wednesdays the rest of this month but on Mondays I will have the stories I never shared during the month of October.

Does it sound like I am copping out a little but not giving a longer story on Mondays? Ya well, sometimes stuff happens right. Either way these should be fun and even a little bizarre.

Take this story for example. This one came out a little lopsided (at least that’s how it feels to me). At the start I worked it into the voice of the prompt but there is a moment where that all falls apart and it becomes a standard story voice.

At first this bothered me a little but as you get into the story you might see how it actually makes sense to have a change of perspective…

Bad Day for Og

Og hunts alone. The others drove Og away because they believed he was bad luck. Always, Og would make a mistake on the hunt that would anger the others.

Bad Day for Og

Photo by K.S. Brooks

Og sees the thorn-heads and wonders how he could bring one down alone. As they graze, Og creeps forward.

Long before he comes close enough to throw his spear, his foot gets stuck in the mud. Og struggles, but that only makes it worse. Og hears something that makes his heart thump big. It is the howl of the sharpfangs. They have seen him. Not a good day for Og…

Og struggles with the mud, but only sinks deeper. Mud up to Og’s knee. Sharpfang approach wary. It’s nose wrinkles as it finds his scent.

Hunting stick with sharps, Og not forget that. Og use it to poke at sharpfang. Og has own fang. Eyes of beast lock with Og’s. It quick and hungry but so is Og.

Wait for it. When the sharpfang jump Og strike with fang. Og smart, plan good. Whiskers ruffle with breeze, sharpfang muscles tense, coiled. Og see the paws, front paws twitch.

The leap, strong, sure. Claws and fangs flash toward Og in blur. Og’s fang swings up, catches the beast in the chest. The attack ends faster than it starts. Sharpfang pushed off, away from Og. The Og fang sliced through its chest and stuck. It fell dead beside him.

But Og’s luck proved fatal. The force of the beast pushed him deeper into the mud, past his waist. Though he struggled the mud pulled him deeper into its embrace.

He screamed out one last time just as mud filled his mouth and sucked him the rest of the way inside. He could beat a sharpfang but the mud got the better of him.


What are you doing standing around here for? Head over to Indies Unlimited and check out some stories and give some love to the one tickles your fancy.

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