Microdosing - 100mg of Old
Prompt: Old
Today on Microdosing our prompt is OLD!
Write a story in 100 words!
Don’t forget to tag me if you follow along with the challenge.
Pale skin and frail bones made sense the hooligans would target me. To them, I was just a withered old man, skulking around the city's moonlit streets. My exquisite clothing likely made them assume I'd wear other riches on me.
Three "heroes" jumped me in the back alley. Their bats fell down on me repeatedly. I played along, asking for mercy with a trembling voice.
I'll admit I couldn't hold the ruse up for long. My laughter made them step back. My wounds mended, fangs grew in my gums. Fear scented the air.
What a feast it was that night.
Old Friends:
Nobody knew whose dog it was.
Jeremiah, who was 12, knew it wasn’t one of theirs. He handed the skull to his dad, who turned it over in his fingers, but all he could say was that it wasn’t the retriever he buried out back as a kid.
“Could be a hundred years old,” he said.
We marveled. Ran our fingers over the ridges, imagined little boys like ourselves petting dogs like ours. Burying their friends in the yard, like we did, to keep them close.
Then we went home. Settled our hands on the fur we could still touch.
Microdose Old 100 words
When Detective Miller finally caught up to Doughty, he was wheezing and puffing like an outboard motor.
“I’m… getting… too…—”
Miller’s partner looked on, uninterested, as he hiked breaths between his spread legs like an NFL center. Detective Doughty had a knee in the groaning suspect's T12 vertebrae. “I’d like to get this done before you retire, Bill.”
Bill straightened, red-faced and shiny. “Seems you… have it in hand…” then he winced sharply, “Ah, shit,” he said, frozen stock-still, one hand behind and the other in front like a butler.
“You good?” Doughty asked. The suspect yelled into the ground.