‘Wotcha found, boy?’ said Hairy Bob, as his chocolate lab, Mugwump, scrabbled at the roots of an old tree.
‘Stop!‘ boomed a voice from behind.
Hairy turned to see a man dressed all in white.
‘B…B…Begging yer pardons, S..Sir. My dog here thinks he’s found summit in that tree, and he ain’t never wrong, n..never,’ stuttered Bob.
‘Be gone!‘ the man demanded.
Only once enough distance had passed did a still shaking Bob pause for a nerve-settling swig of warm whiskey. Braving a furtive glance over his shoulder, the man in white remained by the tree; a woman in white now by his side.
‘Come on boy, let’s get outta here!’
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.
The bedroom was a mess: gaping holes knocked through crumbling plaster, sun-faded carpets peeled right back. I knew what she was looking for, and she wasn’t going anywhere without him – the new owners would just need to wait.
‘Ouch, watch it!’ yelled the patient reclining in his chair.
‘Jack, honey, the men are here about the car.’
Stolen scent.
