Recaptcha

Prompt image for the Fandango's Flash Fiction prompt

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #147, where we write about the image below from Erean @ Morguefile.com.

A picture containing grass, outdoor, nature, smoke

Description automatically generated

Already exasperated, Peta flew into the bedroom. Her long, fiery red hair, only served to complement her fierce temper.

“Where is it?” she thought, tearing to the pink-painted portmanteau at the foot of her bed. She’d brought this from her bedroom at her parents’ house, she’d had it forever and could never have parted with it. Opening it wide, although full of old clothes, she quickly assured herself that her quest was not there.

“Got to be methodical,” she thought. And she set herself an anti-clockwise trajectory. “Where the hell can it be? It’s not as if this is a huge space, it’s only a double bedroom!”

She reached the wardrobe, in such a hurry that she did not notice how well its polished pine blended in with the beige decor of the room. No time for that, as she flung the mirrored door open. Opening the other, she quickly rifled through the hanging clothes, paying no attention to the gorgeous designer items she had collected over the years. But no, nothing.

The next item, her chest of drawers. Her first purchase after moving in, this didn’t match anything. A white, chipboard flatpack, it had served a purpose in an apartment with too little storage space. Though she’d been thinking of replacing it, it still served that same purpose as, one by one, she searched every drawer, from the chunky woolly jumpers on the bottom, past her neatly folded casual blouses, to her “special” underwear at the top. In contrast to her boyfriends, who usually liked to spend time looking at her underwear – preferably with her in it! – she sped past, satisfying herself merely that her quarry was not in the drawer.

“Where are you, you bastard?”

Running out of options, she finally approached her dressing table. Pine again, it was from the same range as the wardrobe, a conscious purchase once she had decided on the “look” she wished the room to have. It had a large mirror. Had she been interested; she might have noticed those piercing eyes staring back at her – everybody did! The furniture had but a single drawer, in its centre under the mirror. Peta sprang the drawer open, and there it was. But it was too quick, and dived straight past the tardy woman, scurrying under her bed.

Peta immediately gave chase, but as she positioned herself by the side of the bed, her prize scuttled out the other side. Like a hare, Peta jumped on the bed, spoiling the bedclothes. That was the least of her worries as she managed to put a hand on her victim.

But again, it slipped her grasp, taking advantage of her being off-balance, her prey almost slipped past.

But this time, Peta’s free hand caught its calf, and down it tumbled. Quick-witted, Peta jumped onto it, and in a trice, secured it in her grip.

Her object struggled furiously, but now that she had it, there was no way she would loosen her grasp. Peta had finally caught her shadow.

Author: Mister Bump UK

Designed/developed large IT systems, interrupted by a stroke in 2016, aged 48. Now mix development of health-related software with voluntary work and writing. Married, with an estranged daughter.

38 thoughts on “Recaptcha”

                    1. I remember drainpipe jeans in the early Eighties and by the mid-Eighties we were all wearing George Michael jackets and designer stubble. Stubble was about all I could manage anyhow back then!

                      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks. I magaged to hold it to the last word, I think, although it the becomes clear (I hope) that it was a nod to “Peta” Pan.
      It’s fun sometimes to retell these tales (or parts of them) and leave everyone guessing.

      Like

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