A Moral Mistake

        “Morals?” The cockroach smirked. “What’s that?” He wore an eye patch and carried a laser gun.

        “Rules and regulations.” Mrs. Bunny picked a flower and placed it in her basket. “It’s how the game is played.”

        “There are rules? Since when?” The cockroach shot a daisy with his laser and petals flew everywhere. “I don’t need no stinkin’ morals.”

        “Children know the difference between right and wrong.”

        The cockroach swore.

        A booming voice sounded, “Send the bug with the eye patch to Mayhem, level M.”

        Poof! The cockroach disappeared.

        Mrs. Bunny smiled wisely. He thought morals were for the weak.

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Footprints in the Snow

I’m a believer. I know Sasquatch is out there.  I’ve seen its tracks and heard it howl.  When I was a teenager, winter camping with my scout troop, we’d spent the night in snow caves. The next morning we found giant footprints. We followed them to a frozen, snow-covered lake.   

        That’s when we heard it howl. Boy, howdy.

        I was a dumb kid. I went out on the ice to where the footprints in the snow suddenly ended at a crack but continued on the other side. Sasquatch had stepped over it, but I couldn’t. I ran back, a believer.

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Charity?

        Will dipped his pen in the inkwell. He brought it to the paper, waiting for inspiration. None came. The candle flickered and a door closed behind him. Anne had entered the room.

        “What are you writing tonight?” she asked.

        “It’s a comedy about a couple who constantly haggle.”

        She tickled his ear. “Like us?”

        He smirked. “What do you know of charity?”

        “The Bible tells us, it is the greatest of all.” She blew out the candle.

        “Oh, foul charity.” Laughing, he pulled Anne into his lap and kissed her eager lips.

        She giggled. “Who can sever love from charity?

Be sure to check out what the others wrote with this prompt.

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