Ankle-biter

The skull bit me.

It BIT me.

It rolled across the dirt floor from the other side of the room and bit my ankle.

I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen some strange things in my time. Being a tomb robber has it’s thrills and spills.

But the damn thing bit me. Chomp. Right on the laces of my boot.

It’s looking at me now, I can feel it. I’ve got my foot on. That was the first thing I did. Pretty much the only thing one can do when under threat from a little ball of angry white bone.

But seriously. It attacked me.

Here’s a review of events, such as they are; I pushed the door open, walked over to the chest in the corner, disabled the trap. Heard movement. Turned around, hand on my blade. And there it was, a small white globe rolling across the floor at me.

Uphill.

I’ll never understand it, as long as I live.

But then, if I understood half the things that have happened to me…

Author's Note

This is a little piece I wrote to help me overcome writer's block. The jolting sentences and bad humour throws me out of whatever rut of thinking I'm in and forces me to relax. Then the open ending gives the creativity a wee kick and away I go.
Maybe some readers can find some inspiration here too. :)

Reviews

[roarke]

keep it rolling up hill, and next time forget your blade and use a can opener.....

[A Modern Hippy]

Haha! I'll try that. Thanks. :D

[Vishuddha]

Fun! Curse of the Pharaoh's Tomb writ big, violent and immediate, with an unfinished promise of more to come! Stay tuned. After a bout of channel changing I'll be back.

[A Modern Hippy]

Haha! Aye. Humour doesn't come through in much of my writing, but I make an effort sometimes, just to break the pattern a bit. I don't have the special timing and diction and such that some people have that allows them to make people laugh, but it's good enough. :)