FFftPP : How the crocodile got his smile

 

 

They were the length of my palm back then, scales soft as Grandma’s jowls. They’d walk along my arms, claws tickling. In the sunlight, they glowed emerald, an iridescent flash as their tails curved against the sway of their bodies.

I was okay with them eating worms and slugs plucked from the veg patch – even the crickets that were daft enough to hop into their garden cage. It was only nature after all.

Then one day I found them draped in cloaks of lapis velvet. For a moment I was caught by the beauty of shimmering blue against the green. Then the gears jumped in my head and I saw – a butterfly. They were eating the most exquisite blue butterfly, frail wings shuddering in their jaws in a sickening imitation of flight.

They mewed as I opened the cage, cried out as I threw them into the river. They called in the night but I pulled the pillow around my head.

Now they’re back, grown beautiful and monstrous. They bask in the garden, trample the peas, pull down the bean canes.

They’re waiting for me.

Through my terror I know – it’s only nature.

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For Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practioner. See the pic and include or allude to the sentence – this week It was instinct. I just let go of them- and write a story in 200 words. See here to join the fun.