Ad Hoc Vocabulary (Otherwise Untitled)
#62 of Short Stories
A badger tastes sorrow.
~ The edges of the badger's lips curled with surprise as the sandwich slipped from amongst his fingers. Deft hands sprung to action, giving chase while a profane exclamation began to solidify deep in his gut just below his diaphram. It was as the sandwich twisted in the air to nimbly dodge his grasp that surprise broke into anger and more choice words spiraled into the knot that was rising up into his chest.
~ A flailing of arms sufficient to spare him from the indignantly of a tumble, despair settled down over the badger's expression and mood with the heavy force of reality patiently entangling the collection of profanities rising up his gullet. The sandwich struck floor, contents scattering into an array of tempting pieces sullied by the week's accumulation of dust, dirt, and spilled mortar.
~ It was as the scattered remnants of a promising meal settled into their motionless destinations that the words finally escaped the badger's lips, as one hastily woven declaration; "Grfn'hgr'ckl..."