Our Lemon Means Death

I did the NYC Midnight 100-word microfiction challenge again, and had a lot of fun. Here are my prompts:

Genre: action/adventure

Action: slicing a lemon

Word: commit

“Ready the cannons, women!”

Clara poked the lemon among the nails with her cutlass, slicing through. “Scourge of the scurvy dogs!” A cannonball splashed beside the Puckered Lips. The Navy. After a decade of peaceful pillaging.

“Fire!”

Nails and cannonballs rained down on the naval ship, tearing through sails and sending the crew running. Ruby peered through the spyglass. Flames were spreading over the deck and a cannonball had breached the hull. “Set sail! We’ve committed an act of war. Best not to stick around.”

Their yellow flag fluttered as they turned southward, shouting together, “Our lemon means death!”

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