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It was an innocuous looking thing of daily use, but had turned to a lethal weapon in her hands. All alone, she mounted an attack on the many-numbered enemy with a ferocious and single-minded purpose, decimating lines of them with ease, stepping on the fallen and grinding them with the heel of her foot, occasionally bending to pick up interesting looking parts and chewing with relish.

Suddenly from behind her she heard the sound of a sharp intake of breath. Startled she dropped her weapon of choice and warily turned towards the door, ready to throw a tantrum at a moment’s notice. But the initial look of shock on her mother’s face had dissolved into hysterical laughter.

She laughed too then, white teeth showing through the gooey brown adorning her face. Mom carefully stepped through the enemy splattered all over the floor, picked up the fork and put it away where she couldn’t reach it then scooped her up and kissed her messy cheeks. She giggled seeing the gooey brown stuff now adorning Mom’s face as well.

Later, after she had had a bath, changed into a pretty new frock, blown out the two candles on a cake that looked like a cross between a bunny and a rooster while everyone sang the birthday song off-key, she heard Dad ask about the cupcakes. “Oh, they were vanquished in a battle by a brave warrior queen!” replied Mom kissing her and winking at Dad.

©Shail Mohan 2016

Since I will be on the move today, I have opted to write a short piece of fiction based on a word chosen at random from last month’s list: Fork

 

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