Simmer

Quill

I use everything in my writing, like a depression era cook. Nothing goes to waste. While juicy bits might be served immediately, scraps and fat are not tossed out, but flung into the pot on a slow simmer. Bones and beaks will be cycled back in someday, just wait and see. Feathers float around the stove whispering poems as I stir the plot. Little feet line up on the windowsill awaiting their turn as I sweep broken shells into a corner. Oh, I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done. You’re just lucky my weapon is a pen and not a gun.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Simmer

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4 responses to “Simmer

  1. Strong emotions in this… Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very cool. Loved that.

    Liked by 1 person

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