Morning everyone, especially to you Rochelle for our weekly dalliance into the world of flash fiction, a complete tale in 100 words with a beginning, a middle and an ending, bases loosely or entirely on the picture below; taken expertly by the wonderful and multi talented Rochelle.
It can’t be done, I hear you crow, well I’ve news for you, it can although not altogether successfully in my case, so here goes
On My Marks…
Get Set…
GO!!!
The gift shop had struggled on with mail order through the pandemic; people wanted driftwood sculptures and wooden cacti to liven up their desks, projecting a phoney personality in their otherwise dismal existences.
Under the counter Heron flesh was harder to come by. Heron Hunting was outlawed years before, but the sweet tasting carrion was too much for some to resist.
Henry heard there’d been hunt over the weekend; swiping the sleeping Herons from the nest, skilfully slitting their throats as they gurgled for breath. He hurried up to the shop door, drooling he swore.
“Nope” meant another week without.
There we are 100 words of awfulness, I love Herons and so I really don’t know where this came from, anyway enjoy.
The Count Of North Clifton 
its the pelicans i feel sorry for in case of mistaken ID!
LikeLike
Wonderfully macabre
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Neil
LikeLike
not to lose hope. maybe it’ll be available next week. just make sure sure you’re first on the line before the door opens. 🙂
LikeLike
Grisly tale, Shrawley. It’s hard to think of herons being murdered just to satisfy a taste.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Will take more than some knick knacks and heron meat to improve 2020.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Too right
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, it’s rough but needs must I guess. We are all animals and I’m interested in what it takes to decivilise
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting. Humans! What cha gunna do?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeek 😦 A secret signal to the nefarious heron devourers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, a secret world of exotic and illegal specialities. Poor Henry how can he cope without his next heron fix. He’ll just have to eat ‘Blackbird Pie’.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I write a FF about that years ago, that was pretty trippy I think??
LikeLiked by 1 person
https://theministryofshrawleywalks.com/2018/11/03/friday-fictioneers-my-pie-rye/
LikeLike
Dear Shrawley,
Your story’s enough to make me become a vegan. 😉 I could never be a hunter. I can’t say I feel sorry for Henry. Good job on the story, though.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
If we eat foie gras and the goose or duck it comes from, and we eat chickens and we eat pigeons… why not herons?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Needs must Dale! I imagine it being a dark meat
LikeLiked by 1 person
So do I…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Like goose or duck
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly.
LikeLike
Heron a l’orange
LikeLike
I have koi carp in a pond. There are herons who come and watch them from the adjacent roof. I don’t think they’re admiring their beauty. Bon appetit, Henry!
Good, if gruesome, story, Minister.
PS – I rather like herons actually – alive and flying I mean, of course! They have such a wonderfully clumsy take-off!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too, I love a heron. Would I eat one? The jury’s out
LikeLike
They banned fox hunting but it still goes on around here. I’d have to be pretty desperate to eat one thought!
Here’s mine!
LikeLike
Clever usage of the elements in the picture.
LikeLike
I feel his pain. I’ve often yearned to get my hands on the neck of a heron when I’ve surveyed the slaughter in my fishpond.
LikeLike
That sounds pretty macabre.
LikeLike
Heron hunting is not heroic… I kind of like those birds.
LikeLike
My “like” button isn’t working. Frustrating.
Herons are cool. They wouldn’t look kindly at anyone, in Minnesota or Michigan, for killing the herons. Anyway, I heard the meat is tough and stringy 🙂
LikeLike
Herons looks graceful in their habitat.
Some people can murder anyone for self.
Realistically told.
LikeLiked by 1 person