Steve and Harvey crawl out of the wall into the kitcen. The faint smell of cheese has drawn their noses out of their wonderful slumber.
"Hey, you smell that mate?'
'Oh Harvey my man I do. That's some fresh Feta. I'm thinking Mrs Jones has cooked up a Greek Salad. Her new boyfriend must be coming around for dinner tonight'.
Steve and Harvey make their way through the kitchen to the bottom of a pantry door. There, a small opening by which both of them can squeeze through. These days Steve and Harvey are a lot skinnier than they use to be. When they first moved in this hole was too small. Mrs Jones had been setting up traps throughout the house these days, she'd caught wind of the brothers antics.
In the pantry a stack of pots and pans lead up to another hole in the roof. Like a staricase the two ran up to said hole.
Out popped Harve's nose, taking a sniff here and a sniff there. The coast was clear. Harvey and Steve popped out and made their dash for the feta. It was alone however. Just a single peice of fat Feta on a wooden block.
Harvey -having note eaten in days - sprints towards the feta, eyes gleaming, eyes full of intent. As his tongue touches the feta, SNAP. Harvey's head caught, his little rat existence finished.
Every now and again I write for 5 minutes continuously and do not stop until the timer runs out. What you read is a stream of words coming out all at once. No editing, no worrying. I find this creates amazing stories as you just have to let the words take you, rather than force them out. Enjoy.
