Today's Monday's Muse prompt from Wake Up Your Muse is: He stuffed the bag of jewels inside the fish, wrapped it and put it into the freezer
Here's my story using the prompt...
The Smelly Jewel Caper
Griff slit the rock bass open along it's belly, dug out all the innards, then stuffed the plastic baggie full of jewels into the cavity. He wrapped the fish in clean white freezer paper, taped it shut with masking tape and wrote "Rock Bass" on the front, then threw it in the back of the freezer, piling the rest of the frozen goods in front of it.
"We're almost there, Duke," he said to the old hound dog lying in front of the screen door.
Fishing had been great lately and his catch was piling up. Soon he would have enough to buy that boat he'd always wanted and spend the rest of his life on the open seas instead of trolling the waters around his shack in the Everglades.
One more heist ought to do it and then he'd take his haul down to Shady Sam's hideout and sell them.
Footsteps on creaky boards outside startled him.
"Griff, you in there?" came a voice from his front stoop.
"Who's there?" he called, reaching for his shotgun.
He kicked the dog outta his way. "Thanks alot for the warning, you mangy mutt!"
"It's the sheriff, Griff. You better come on out of there."
Griff reconsiderd, sat his shotgun behind the door and stepped out onto the rickkety porch.
"What can i do for ya, Sheriff?" he asked.
The sheriff eyed Griff hard and steady for a minute. Griff shuffled uneasily back and forth, ran his fingers through his unwashed hair, then smoothed down his wirey beard.
"I hear you been pullin' in more than your limit, Griff," said the Sheriff. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate your catch."
Griff knew the jig was up. Sheriff Roscoe was no fool. If he knew about the fish, he knew about the jewels and Griff knew better than to mess with this Sheriff. Many a fisherman had become gator bait by crossin' Sheriff Roscoe Black. He was as crooked as a dog's hind leg.
Griff stepped aside as the sheriff opened the screen door and crossed the room to the old refrigerator. He emptied the contents of the freezer into a burlap bag he'd brought with him, climbed in his jeep and then drove away, taking Griff's dreams with him.
"Consarn it!" he muttered. "That'll set me back a bit."
Duke gave him a questioning look.
"Well, at least he didn't get the stuff we stashed in the outhouse, did he, boy?" Griff said.
He reached down and nudged the old hound, who had found a another place to lay.
"Come on, boy. Let's go fishin'. I hear they're hittin' pretty good in Key Largo."
For more fun writing prompts go the prompt generator at WakeUpYourMuse.com
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(Copyright© 2012 Jan Christiansen. All rights reserved.)
Here's my story using the prompt...
The Smelly Jewel Caper
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| Photo courtesy enricomaria, rgbstock.com |
"We're almost there, Duke," he said to the old hound dog lying in front of the screen door.
Fishing had been great lately and his catch was piling up. Soon he would have enough to buy that boat he'd always wanted and spend the rest of his life on the open seas instead of trolling the waters around his shack in the Everglades.
One more heist ought to do it and then he'd take his haul down to Shady Sam's hideout and sell them.
Footsteps on creaky boards outside startled him.
"Griff, you in there?" came a voice from his front stoop.
"Who's there?" he called, reaching for his shotgun.
He kicked the dog outta his way. "Thanks alot for the warning, you mangy mutt!"
"It's the sheriff, Griff. You better come on out of there."
Griff reconsiderd, sat his shotgun behind the door and stepped out onto the rickkety porch.
"What can i do for ya, Sheriff?" he asked.
The sheriff eyed Griff hard and steady for a minute. Griff shuffled uneasily back and forth, ran his fingers through his unwashed hair, then smoothed down his wirey beard.
"I hear you been pullin' in more than your limit, Griff," said the Sheriff. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate your catch."
Griff knew the jig was up. Sheriff Roscoe was no fool. If he knew about the fish, he knew about the jewels and Griff knew better than to mess with this Sheriff. Many a fisherman had become gator bait by crossin' Sheriff Roscoe Black. He was as crooked as a dog's hind leg.
Griff stepped aside as the sheriff opened the screen door and crossed the room to the old refrigerator. He emptied the contents of the freezer into a burlap bag he'd brought with him, climbed in his jeep and then drove away, taking Griff's dreams with him.
"Consarn it!" he muttered. "That'll set me back a bit."
Duke gave him a questioning look.
"Well, at least he didn't get the stuff we stashed in the outhouse, did he, boy?" Griff said.
He reached down and nudged the old hound, who had found a another place to lay.
"Come on, boy. Let's go fishin'. I hear they're hittin' pretty good in Key Largo."
For more fun writing prompts go the prompt generator at WakeUpYourMuse.com
-------------------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to share it with your friends using the Facebook, Twitter and other share buttons below. Thanks!
(Copyright© 2012 Jan Christiansen. All rights reserved.)
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