16. Use three more…
Today’s Prompt
16. Use three more of these verbs: howl, moan, creak, clap, slosh, entangle, pare, squawk, spun, bleed, detonate, drift, chomp, snarl, hiss, trample, shimmy, gush.
400 Creative Writing Prompts Workbook Story Prompts for Journaling, Blogging, and Overcoming Writer’s Block Compiled by Debra Chapoton All rights reserved Copyright © 2020 by Debra Chapoton
Response
“Can’t we talk about this?!” I gasped as I leapt off the branch I’d been lazily relaxing on.
“Nope,” he said, with his beak snapping closed on the air where I’d just been.
“Listen, I know you’d like nothing better than to chomp me in half, but is that really necessary?” I pleaded. I wasn’t too proud to plead, especially when shimmying for my life through the light underbrush while a hawk is trying to end my life.
“Sorry, man. Circle of Life. Gotta eat,” the hawk replied just before his clawed foot barely missed the end of my tail.
I really hated that whole circle of life reference. Ever since that movie came out, we smaller prey animals, even adorable bright green harmless tree snakes, hear it all the time. Do we hear about how great it is to be a vegetarian? Nooo, only the one Disney slogan that makes hunting okay.
I was crawling at my top speed, which when faced with the squawks of a bird of prey hellbent on making me bleed could be pretty darn fast. I tried finding anything that might entangle the damn bird, snarls of tree branches, an empty trunk I could slide into and up inside of, anything! But I seemed to have found the most barren empty part of the forest to do my lazing. Great job, Herbert.
Yeah, my name’s Herbert. Don’t judge me. My parents were weird, but they loved me in their own snaky ways. And yes, now that we’re talking about my name, I have thought in the past of sharing my name and some of my history with my wannabe predators, and no, it doesn’t work. Every time, and there have been several, they seem to appreciate the opportunity to be grateful for a meal by name.
“Listen,” I began again before hissing in pain as the hawk managed to catch a talon under a scale. I lashed out with my fangs and managed to find a soft part of his foot so that he let go. I slithered for all I was worth.
There! A hole in the ground just big enough for me to slide into and way too small for my hawk admirer to follow or even get his full beak into.
Just a little farther…yes! Oh glorious cool earth around my body and… there it is. The frustrating screeching of a hungry bird who knows he’s going to have to go hungry longer. What a lovely sound.
Of course, now I have to figure out where I am and how to get back outside where my food source lives.
After a long straightaway from the ground, the tunnel began to provide choices, diverging routes. Shall I go left or right. I raised my head and tried to scent the air. And yes, I do that by flicking my tongue in the air but that’s not cuz I’m licking the air or anything; I gather odor molecules by flicking my tongue and passing those molecules over an organ in the top of my mouth, thank you very much. And no, I’m not at all touchy about the subject.
To the left seems to have some kind of rodent smell to it, while to the right I catch a whiff (see what I did there?, ‘catch’ a whiff when I just explained about my tongue. I know; I’m clever.) of leaves and breeze and thus outside. I turn right.
