Scrounging for Scraps by Chantal Boudreau The ebony-furred cur hovers at my feet, waiting, I assume, for any tidbits that might tumble from the table.  Hot, dry breath tickles my ankles and calves.…
Source: Flash Fiction Friday *Scrounging for Scraps*
 
   
  
   
    
    
    
        Published on February 22, 2017 13:26