Fiddleeebod

Marla slid onto her chair at the kitchen table and announced, ‘I’ve almost decided what I want to be for Halloween.’

Marla’s mother, busy at the stove, seemed not to hear.

‘Mama, I said I’ve almost decided what I want to be for Halloween.’

‘I heard you. I just have to count stirs,’ said Marla’s mother.

‘It’s between owl, cat and triceratops. Cat I did last year, I know, but it was good being twins with Pie,’ said Marla, reaching down to rub the head of purring Pie. ‘But I guess I want to do something new. So it’s owl or triceratops.’

’28, 29, 30. There, done. Well, honey, choose something so I’ll have time to work on it,’ said Marla’s mother.

‘Triceratops! That’s it. Triceratops. I’ll be a triceratops,’ said Marla.

‘Triceratops? That will be a challenge, but let me think,’ said Marla’s mother, and she got a notepad and a pen from a drawer and tapped the pen on her upper lip as she thought.

Marla’s mother wrote down several items on the pad, tore the sheet off, and said, ‘Here. Take this list to grandmother and bring back all she gives you. Triceratops. This might be fun.’

Marla took the list from her mother, went to her room, put on her pointy black hat, picked up her broom, and flew out the window toward her grandmother’s cottage deep in the wood.

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Stories by Steve