What was meant to be Wednesday has now rolled into Thursday, most of the day passing and now turning into night. Best laid plans and all that,  i’ll be not early and neither late for this week Rochelle I hope you can forgive me. One day I’ll be in the number 1 spot!  Thanks to Susan Rouchard for the snappy snap, let’s see what we can do with this one. The fugitives continue their seemingly aimless quest…

On My Marks…

Get Set…

GO!!!

Goldilocks woke first, RR-Hood shortly after; the Hedge Vodka had done its thing in that they had no idea what had happened or where they were, or what type of cake was in their pockets.

This room was damp smelling; small table, plastic chair and a shelf populated with Gastropod Cookbooks and a marked-up Abridged Encyclopaedia of Housewifery.

“The Hell lives here?” grasked (an alchemised word mixing groaned and asked) RR-Hood.

Goldie tried to speak but her lips were stuck together with some sort of glistening slime; tasted of feet.

The next room, an amorphous writhing mass of mucus covered black, green and corduroy coloured beings squelched together.

There we go, 100 words on the nose, who knows what lives behind the door to the next room, you’ll have to wait and see, as I will too!!