From his seat Henry squirmed as ruby red droplets of blood fell from the beast’s razor-tipped beak; winced as the demented, demonic creature sharpened it’s enormous talons on fragments of scarred, human bone. All the while those dead, green eyes piercing straight through his feckless soul.
‘Focus, Henry, focus!’ demanded Mrs Ollerenshaw, oblivious to her young charge’s terror.
When the clock finally struck twelve, Henry bolted for the door. Behind him fine net curtains flapped in the breeze, as the soft, snowy white feathers of Mrs Ollernshaw’s cockatoo shone in the mild, midday sun.
Relieved, Henry had once again survived the living nightmare of his weekly cello lesson.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.