Ofield Gramblin Eats His Words: A Free Flow Write

I don’t know if poor Ofield got lost in my blogging shuffle, but I figured he deserved another shot at sharing a bit of his story, SOOOO here he is again! I hope you like him 😉

I came for the soup...

He still hadn’t gotten the hang of it. Not by a long shot. Water splashed into his nostrils and tickled his throat as he tried to breath. “Curse it all!” He squawked as his dinner hoped out of reach. In all honesty Ofield din’t even know if Peacocks at frogs. But he did know that the fearsome Duke and hunter was now completely divorced of his hunting skills, among other things, and would likely die of hunger before it was all said and done.1414338271h32us

This was not what he meant when he said he wished he could start all over again where no body knew of him, when he wished he had wings upon which to fly far far away.

And Ofield Gramblin did  get what he asked for, everything he wished…that is except for the flying part. No he more tumbled and twisted and flopped in a very unattractive manner…

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