This weeks word is Rock (rocked here). I hope you enjoy.

He rocked back on the flimsy chair, his face alive with undisguised amusement. His eyes sparkled, his laughter barely withheld as he observed his brother's unusual dilemma.

"Grinning doesn't help!" Sam's voice was clipped, embarrassment bringing colour to his cheeks as he shooed again at the dozens of creatures clinging to him.

"It'll only last 24 hours, Sam, and you could have been cursed to be plagued by worse things." Dean laughed, remembering the witches curse as they had burned her bones. "Anyway, they're real purdy!"

"Freaking butterflies!" Sam growled sulkily as he batted at the delicate fluttering creatures.

Okay, silly I know! Thank you for reading.