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On the outside, Rita was pleasant as could be. People often marveled at her sense of calm.
“She is such a nice person. So sweet and innocent.”
In her backyard, a straw dummy clings to a wooden pole, sackcloth face scarred and bursting.
Rita’s dummy served two purposes. First, she learned how to throw knives. Second, on a particularly annoying day, she could always imagine the dummy represented a particular difficulty, and then – WHAM, right in the face.
The dummy could take it, and she could live to be nice another day.
This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers, where once a week we put together 100-word stories based on a prompt. I want to think I’m not the only one who looks at this picture from Sandra Crook and thinks oh, Wicker Man, I saw that movie. That was messed up.
As long as it’s not a real person, I believe it is neither illegal nor (necessarily) immoral to set something on fire. For example, my early Christmas present to myself: totally adorable, squishy animals that also serve as stress balls.
Here is my purple unicorn. I could not have written this one without his additional inspiration.