8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Put A Sock In It

“So…do you like tennis balls? I sure do. I LOVE ’em.”

“Do you smell that? It smells like bacon. Is that bacon? Because something smells like bacon.”

“Oh man–I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go! I am going to just pee right here on the floor in about two minutes, just so you know.”

“Did you hear that? Was that that stupid cat? Hey, cat–SHUT UP! SHUT IT! SHUT! UP!”

“Rawhide’s not my favorite taste in the world, but sometimes you just gotta CHEW something, you know?”

*****

Kim had thought that teaching her dog to talk was going to be awesome, but now she just wished Bruno would put a sock in it.

Literally–she had given him an old sweat sock to chew, hoping that’d occupy him for at least a few minutes so she could get back to that new book she was trying to read, but no such luck. She had about a minute of peace and quiet after she opened the book back up when she heard:

“OK, fair warning: You have about thirty seconds, and after that, I cannot be held responsible for what my bladder chooses to do, so you might want to get me outside before then. FYI.”

She hustled up off the sofa to open the back door for him, Bruno trotting behind muttering “Oh man gotta go gotta go gotta go.”

And then, she noticed: It was pretty nice out, and their yard was fenced in–maybe she could “leave him outside to play” until she at least got through the Introduction.

The last thing she heard before she shut the back door and locked it was, “Oh MAN, that’s better…OK, time to get back in the A/C for a nice nap. And what do you got to eat? I’m starv–“

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