Only kill to eat

Since Sue passed away, this year it was Frank’s job to prepare the Thanksgiving meal.

“Only kill to eat,” Frank told his kids, as he proceeded to feather the tiny bird. “Dad, that thing is too cute to eat!” said Sally, his youngest.

When Frank finished cleaning the tiny bird, he  put it in the pot with the rest of the meat and vegetables.

“There sure is a lot of meat in the pot” exclaimed Bobby. “Hey Dad, where is cousin Phil?  I thought he was joining us for supper.”

Frank winked as he repeated his words.

“Only kill to eat”

PHOTO POMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

This offbeat little Thanksgiving story is brought to you by the fine folks at Friday Fictioneers. Bon Appetite! Click on the froggy (which is also good in soup) for more stories based on the prompt.

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Go ‘in

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

“Friggin’ Ramea, the most boring place on the  planet” thought Michael, as the MV Gallipoli made it’s way across the rough water and headed towards the mainland.
Michael grew up in Ramea, a tiny island of less than 600 people, located off the coast of Newfoundland. Michael’s family were primarily fishermen, and the fishery has been in steady decline these days.
When the ferry finally docked, Michael jumped out and began waving his hands and hollering.
“Now that I am in the big city, the sky’s the limit” thought Michael, as he glanced at the sign.
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This tale of bettering yourself in the ‘big city’ is brought to you by the fine folks at Friday Fictioneers. Be sure to click on the froggy for more stories based on this weeks’ photo prompt.