When the aneurysm blew and you fell to the kitchen floor in a lifeless heap Sunday evening, the cat-food dish was full. It’s Thursday noon, you’re still lying there and I finished the Meow Mix early Tuesday morning. I hope your boss sends someone today to find out why you’ve missed work all week, before you become too decomposed to stomach.
The challenge: to write a three-sentence story. Click the link to visit Chuck Wendig’s site and see some of the other entries.