Nobody was sure quite how the deer had got on the roof.
Little pink-jacketed Susan, her frizzy hair flying in all directions and her hands unable to stay still for an instant, suggested it came from Santa’s sleigh. It wasn’t Christmas, but the deer must get bored waiting in the shed, so this one wandered off and got stuck on the roof.
Her father Mark fiddled nervously with his glasses and ran his hand through the tight curls of his hair, muttering about how it could have leapt from one object to another.
Grizzled Grandpa John, dressed in worn jeans and a stained white vest, just spat out a brown glob of tobacco and kept cutting wood.
Sarah crossed her arms, looked at her daughter, her husband, and her father, and asked the more important question.
Nobody was quite sure how to get the deer down from the roof either.
Word Count: 152
This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Mark for providing the prompt photo!