Preying vulture.

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“”I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.” I had nothing to be ashamed of; the battle had been brutal, but I fought as any valiant knight would, defending home and hearth. Closing my eyes to embrace the soothing blindness of death, I hear the song from my youth “Food, glorious food! Hot sausage and mustard!While we’re in the mood …” The vultures song beaconing more of it’s kind to feast upon my flesh.” He recited the story, eyes dead locked to a perfect match across the room.

“I never thought I would live to see the day when my son became the vulture preying on me.” He continued

“Enough of your theatrics father; no one is a vulture and no one is preying upon on your dead soul. I am only taking what is rightfully mine.”

“Rightfully yours under false pretences and guile?” holding his gaze, seeking a reason to save the vulture from the elusive trap ahead.


Written by Chioma I.N

In response to the mondaysfinishthestory flash fiction challenge hosted by Barbara. The picture and the first sentence are provided and you have to complete the story in 100- 150 words. Click on the link to read others stories.

Thanks Barbara for providing the picture.

Thank you for stopping by.

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7 thoughts on “Preying vulture.

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