Silly Sausage

He approached us with a squint in his eye and a low growl. My eyes darted left and right, looking for escape. I ran right to freedom. My sister veered left, right into his path. He sprang towards her, as she shrieked. There was no way to outrun his grasp.

He wrapped his big arms around her and lifted her into the air. I looked on, unable to react. She was at his mercy.

A blanket lay draped over the nearby couch. He grasped it and threw it on the ground, followed closely by my poor sister. She wriggled in his grasp, but was doomed to her fate. A chortle escaped him.

He laid her at the edge of the fringed blanket and tucked the end underneath her. Then he proceeded to roll her into its soft embrace. It was too much. I cried out and lunged at him, but his laughter drowned out all noise. I was no match for his strength. I watched helpless as she was spun into the blanket’s hold.

When he reached the end of the roll, he stood up. Her head and little stumps of legs stuck out either end. It was hopeless to even attempt escape.

With a snicker he tickled her little bare feet until she screamed with laughter.

A belly laugh erupted from his frame as my uncle chucked her under the chin.

“My silly sausage,” he remarked to our delight.

 “My turn,” I cried!

***

To challenge myself and work on improving my writing I have enrolled in an online creative writing class. Our first assignment was to write a 250-word piece on a childhood memory. The class has commented and offered their two-cents worth.

Now it is your turn. Bring on the constructive criticism. How would you grade me?