Writing Prompt - First Memory
LION HUNTING
North Dakota, Bismark.
Early spring.
Tall snow, waiting.
Then, short green grasses.
Lots of little puddles in between.
Croaking, chirping, little green jumpers.
Not really lions, but that's what we said.
Brothers on tricyles.
Maybe two years old.
The lions could not survive the three wheeled chariots.
Little green spots turn red.
Cool.
Big brother picked some up and pocketed a few.
Not me.
Too yucky.
Wiggly, screaming, crying.
Later, big brother made mom scream, too.
Laundry room all stinky with lion guts.
Cool.
Tomorrow, more lions.
Sleep now.
Dream of lions.
