When the waters came, toppling headstones, flooding vaults, and sending coffins sailing through the parish into the Gulf, it seemed sure they had washed Snickers away as well.

But when they receded, there he was, nibbling grass near the large white headstone just as he had done since Old Josh had been laid to rest beneath it.

Funny thing was, ever since he resurfaced, folks would swear they heard him talking when he appeared to be chewing his cud.

Not that anyone was very interested in what he had to say. He was just a crazy old goat after all.

Word Count: 100

Prompt courtesy of Friday Fictioneers


19 thoughts on “Snickers

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