Chuy barked, tilted his head and sniffed the air. “What is it, boy?” I bent down and patted his head. Chuy barked again but before I could get a hold on his leash, Chuy shot into the woods. “Chuy, wait!” I yelled and ran after him.
Running after him was like running after a car. Five minutes later, I was leaning against a tree, panting. Meanwhile, Chuy’s bark filled the air. Where are you? I wondered and searched for the direction it was coming from. Gotcha. After another five minutes, I discovered Chuy standing next to an abandoned vintage car.
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.