Both Desperate
Hit, it still had flight
in its front legs. The man dragged
it by its antlers off the road, crouched
on its neck with a knife. It bled
in dark gulps, still tried to rear, roared.
He laid the hand not pressing it down
upon its shoulder, as if to calm,
as if touch could.
This is my 55 word story (not including title!) for the G-Man. (Thanks, Mr. Knowitall, for the incentive to compress this scene.)
As part of my (kind of random!) exploration of online poetry and prose sites, I am making my first Flash Friday 55 post, which is a post somehow indelibly connected to the G Man, Mr. Know-it=all, and involves the writing of a 55 word story.
Teacher?
When they were good, she let them
color around the Bible verses they’d
copied out.
When they were bad, she had them
stand before the class, and
slap themselves, exhorting as they lapsed
(second graders get tired),
“harder, harder.”
A God-fearing woman, she felt
called to teach them much; the fear part,
they learned.
ManicDDaily 
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