The sunshine was sunny. And shiny. It was sunny and shiny sunshine, and it shone and shined all the live-long day. The angle of the sunshine on that bright day kept the abundance of it from making the day too hot, and the angle was a factor of the relative positions of the planet and the sun. What I'm trying to say is that it was winter. It was winter and it was sunny. Sunny and cold. Because of winter. Also it was daytime, which also has to do with the relative positions of the planet and the sun, but in a different way. See where I'm going with this? Neither do I.
Freddy was out playing in his yard. Freddy was a person, or possibly a panda bear, and he was either a little child or maybe a teen. I suppose I could make him an old man, but I'm not feeling that. He feels like a kid to me, what with the "Freddy" name thing. Oh! What if Freddy were a young girl? The name could be short for "Frederica" or something. YES! Freddy was a young girl and SHE was out playing in HER yard.
That's when the monsters arrived.
Setting that sentence apart by itself was supposed to have the effect of increased dramatic impact. It's a little trick writers employ sometimes when our narrative prowess does not suffice to supply the desired evocation of emotion and tension. Typically we don't explain the usage afterward in a meta-writing paragraph like this one, but we're free to do so if we so choose so. [That last "so" was neither correct nor necessary, but I had one left so I had to put it somewhere.] Now, about those monsters.
They were monstrous. Completely and perfectly monstrous in the monstrosity of their... well... monstrosity I suppose. They were horribly horrible and terribly terrible and frighteningly frightening. It was scary how scary they were, the kind of scary that would scare you were the type to be scared by such scariness. We're talking monsters here, people. Not your newfangled Disney movie monsters who, though they seem awful, are actually kind and have well-developed personalities and decency and character. These were shallow and violent monsters without good excuses for the awful things they did to children every single day. These were old-school monsters of the evil sort.
Having arrived, the monsters promptly ate Freddy the young panda bear girl for no good reason. Just ate her right there in the yard on that sunny winter day. BAM! Eaten. Just like that. Can you imagine? How awful. How completely awful.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
P. S. - At The Collective today they're writing about ghost vampires. Why? Because I nagged them until they did it. Isn't that awesome? You know it is. I know a vampire cannot become a ghost (because of the immortality thing), but can a ghost become a vampire? Thanks for stopping by.
