Three Minutes Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Normanday #71: I walk my pet rock three times a day.

Write for three minutes about…

…a rock.

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day April 14 (put “Norman Makes Delicious Waffles” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

…stormy weather.

Tren Rewy Steb

First the wind comes in gusts. Not quite a warning. More of a hint. You pull me inside and soon we’re in bed, you curled by my feet on top of the blanket. The wind presses against the window. There’s a rumble of thunder, and another, and another. Flashes of light follow. Suddenly a sound like ice cracking in a glass of warm soda sends you scurrying under the covers. Cuddled safely under the covers we listen to the storm together and drift to sleep.