Surrounded, by Gordon Lawrie

Wednesday was St. Andrew’s Day, of course.

Surrounded, by Gordon Lawrie

They had it surrounded.

The monster had one tiny brown eye that long dark nights had made almost redundant. Its legs – short left, longer on the right for side-of-mountain running – had disappeared under its own enormous weight. Surely it was defenceless now?

The captors wore protective clothing: monsters such as these could be dangerous. However, Mr. Yellow, a veteran of such hunts, showed no fear facing it down.

But the hunters had underestimated their prey. Seconds later the monster had simply grown, enlarging to incorporate the entire posse and become one even larger haggis.

It was all over in seconds.


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