| COMFORT | HEAD | SPACE | MELT | WICKED |
Dorothy considered the consequences of her actions.
It troubled her greatly, and
she struggled to accept what had happened.
The small black dog that she clutched to her breast, offered a modicum of comfort. She stroked his head and worried the hollows behind his ears with her finger tips.
“Oh my, Oh my,” was all she could say. It became a mantra.
She hadn’t come here to melt the wicked witch. It just happened.
Like one of those pancake mixes her Auntie Em liked so much. You know the ones –
“Just add water.”
Dorothy knew that she’d eventually come to terms with it all.
She just needed some space, and some time to think. Uncle Henry might recommend a good therapist.
Maybe… when she got back to Kansas she’d find peace.
A Monday Writing Prompt generously provided by The Secret Keeper.
Please accept my apologies for barging in. I had fun.
tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice 
PTSD? This is going to be hard to explain to Uncle Henry and Auntie Em. Very difficult. Only the little dog will understand.
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That’s great. Oh, my, Oh, my!. I started reading then the click came, I’m reading about Dorothy of both Kansas and presently of OZ. You got me on ‘hadn’t come here to melt the wicked witch,’ I did a double take. Stop. Start all over again. Must do this properly and begin to read again. You did it perfectly right. A grand piece of Flash Fiction. I love what you did with the 5 words. A marvelous surprise of a story. So familiar, but I didn’t recognize until that fateful line. In response, you did nothing wrong, but everything right. I do hope you do it again. It was a delightful surprise and a great way to begin my day.
Hope you again. More stories, I hope. – jk
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*Hope to see you again.* sorry for the omission above.
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I’ll see you again next week.
Thank you.
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Ah, Good!
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