Literature
Things from Writing Fiction class
Prompt: *Image on screen* An elderly woman in an apron sitting on her front porch. With a shotgun in her hands.
Title: Gramma may be a killer, but they had it comin'
I swear on my father's grave, Gramma was not born a killer. As a matter of fact, she was the nicest person you'd ever meet. Cookies always in the oven, free to be eaten by anyone. You ask, she gave. Pies too. If there was anythin' she could do to make someone happy, she'd do it. I swear that there wasn't a mean bone in her body.
She smiled when they took her old cow Nelly, saying that the poor saps may need it more. She kept the smile when they took a couple of our best hens.