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Camping Mosquito

Posted in Flash Fiction

Flash Camping Mosquito

This damned horse never goes where I want him to go.

Mark! Watch your language. Jason, you know your Cousin Mark hates that horse. Tomorrow you ride him.

Sorry mom.

How was fishing? Did you boys bring home dinner?

No! Jason kept throwing stones in the water.

I was not throwing stones. I was skipping stones. I got up to seventeen skips.

Whatever. You scared away the fish.

The fire is hot. I was hoping for fish. I will setup the grate and skewers. We’ll have dogs and burgers. Too bad it is not pheasant season. I saw bouquet of them over in the meadow.

A what?

Mark, if you are going to own a rile, and hunt birds, you should know these things. A group of pheasants is called a bouquet. It is the term for when pheasants are flushed.

Dad never told me that.

That’s because Dad is a Dolt.

Hey now!

Sorry honey, you are not a Dolt.

Jason, where is your brother Paul?

He’s still on the dock, fishing.

Here he comes now.

What’s that honey?

Paul, he’s walking up the beach. It looks like you are going to get your fish.

Jason, run down and help Paul. Those fish look heavy.

But mom.

Do it!

Mark, you help them clean the fish.


Honey, you supervise the cleaning while I make the fry pan ready.

Will do!

This fish is great mom.

Thanks to Paul, our little camping mosquito came through.

Written: March 20, 2020
Words: 247

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