One beautiful fall day around noon, Dorothy was humming as she put together a pumpkin pie. She crimped the edges of the crust and poured in the filling, topping it with sweet crumbles. She slipped it into the oven and wiped her hands on her apron just as a knock sounded on the door. “One minute!” she called out cheerfully, as she set the timer for the pie. She pulled off her apron and hung it over a chair, then went to the door. Peeking through the peephole, her heart skipped a beat when she saw two policemen in uniform standing there.

I took a story starter from ThinkQuest.org.

Goats, sheep and chickens belong on the farm, not in the middle of a four-lane interstate road. Applying the brake, I eased my truck to the shoulder. As I stepped out, the animals began to scatter. I knew it would be pointless to chase them, as they would only run farther, so I stopped to think. Glancing into the truck bed, my eye fell on the bag of dog food I had purchased in town. Tearing open the top, I grabbed a handful and tossed it toward the goats, hoping against hope that they would be interested.

Tossing another handful, I slowly advanced on the group, and managed to get close enough to find a tag on one of the sheep. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the nearest farmer’s co-op, hoping they would be able to help me find the farmer from whom these animals had escaped.

She opened her eyes, slowly, keeping them squinted against the brightness of the sunlight. She sat up abruptly, then regretted her hasty action, as her head began to pound. Closing her eyes tightly, she stayed as still as possible until the pain lessened.

She was pleased to find that, other than her headache, which was now a dull throbbing, she appeared unhurt. She checked her pockets, only to find them completely empty. She searched her memory, but was unable to recall what had resulted in her current location, and unclear where, indeed, she might be.

(See Kathryn Lang’s blog for the inspiration for this.)