Miss Snark had a competition and I missed it. Work. I love work but it gets right in the way of spending hours on the computer checking out Blogs and entering competitions.
25 words, could you do it: catch a reader, get them squirming on the hook in the desperate need to know?
I tried. I found information about the untimely death of a water vole in the mouth of a much maligned moggy:
Didn't like the cat. With the limp-biscuit of a once-living critter, and dripping blood and saliva over the polished floorboards, I liked it even less.
I can write about demon cats - literal and figurative ones. My two psychopathic cats taught me to fear the sound of the cat flap rapping in the kitchen door. The cat flap only raps twice.I also have a story I've never made notes about anywhere. The characters just turn up, periodically, to remind me I never did get around to thinking the story through to the end. The trouble is I love the start, whenever I think of this story I - just - have - to - begin at the beginning. So, for the first time ever I WROTE it down. I know their back stories, how all three of them got to be there. I know I care. But is 25 words enough?
She laughed. Bell bright it rang, piercing my dark haze. I stumbled. Missed my footing but not the rusted railing, that pierced me too.
The exact rusted railing is about 5 minutes walk from my front door. Creative photography would be needed to make it look like it was deep in the forest but I could do that.