My Microfiction of the Day or So

I made sure the rowboat was far enough from shore that the little monsters, some call them children, that the little monsters with their slingshots, their pumpkin carving knives, their scarves turned into rumels, the little monsters could not wade out. None of them knew how to swim either so a good fifty to one hundred feet of distance was adequate for my purpose, continued breathing.

They were there in a small cluster, only like twenty or so, all half my height or less. Their little teeth filed to crude points, the rags and tatters showing the lack of concern they had with their own situation. Shame we were far enough south that it never got much below sixty above, even in the so called winter months.

I guess I could head to the far shore, hope to make a major road and perhaps find some transportation before some other gang got my scent. This being a lake, I couldn’t just go up or downstream until safety. I will have to trust in adult endurance and longer legs to see another sunrise.

Shame about these kids though, but they never had a chance, damn bureaucrats.