Welcome to Wednesday’s flash fiction wherein I write as part of a group based on the same short prompt and post them. Here’s my contribution.
Twisting the knob, Levana shook her head. She could smell gas even before she opened the door. Of course, Deward was crouching over his pots peering into the contents.
“What’s that?” She kicked the door closed before the neighbors complained, again.
Scowling, he lifted the spoon goo rolling off it. “Meaningless taunts bother me not.”
I held up my satchel. “What about supplies? They mean anything?”
He perked up reaching for the bag. Yanking it back, I pointed to the vents. He snorted flicking his wand activating the vents. Better. Now was the stench a potion or dinner? Warlock chefs.
Don’t forget to read the other’s takes on the prompt. More stories go up throughout the day. Be sure to check our page on Facebook for updates as everything becomes available: WonHundred Words.