It took a while for the quokka to warm up and approach me.
“Now kill it,” my sister said from behind the camera.
I told her no. I told her she couldn’t make me. She said she could. I watched the quokka nibble the same fingers that could take a life.
Two weeks later we buried her husband. I tried not to meet her gaze. I didn’t see any of my family again for six years.
Their claim on me would never expire. I held the quokka – a different quokka – in my arms and watched them drive towards my house.
103 words – considering resuming 100×100?
Don’t be ridiculous, that was 100 words on the nose. Don’t try to throw me off my game.