Ebullient earth rose from beneath the cathedral’s easternmost awning swallowing whole a Juniper bud, four innocent lady bugs, and an unhappy Dachshund named Paul who threw himself in. “Dachshunds are always killing themselves” thought one of the diggers. The soil boiled forward – swelling with each passing moment – feverous chants from beneath the surface grow louder. In English it sounded like squeaky shouts of “HARAMBE!” The translation: “Death to those who interfere with their end.” Sadly, the mole hoard didn’t understand the world above (all 1208 tails of it) and Doug the maintenance man obliterated the coup-de-grâce with a shovel.
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Drabble (fiction 100 words maximum)
