Life can twist our minds and rip dreams away But in some moments we find The greatest gift is perhaps not physical But a moment in time When we no longer have to be held to the reality of who others believe we are. That moment wrapped in a lovers arms, the true idea of home dancing through every sensation. Or a moment alone with nothing more than a breath and a soft whisper for patience. Libations given in sacrifice of every moment thereafter. When we come under fire we close our eyes willing ourselves to aim higher. Repeat.
For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch Word Count: 99 Theme: The greatest gift
Sweat ran down Rodney’s arm, wetting the dry dirt surrounding him. “Carrots.” Rodney had hated carrots ever since his mother forced them down his throat when he was 3. It was his earliest, clearest memory. After all of the planning, the pay-offs, the near mess up the night of … his partner hid the loot in a field. “Of carrots.” Par for the course, his partner didn’t remember exactly where. ‘It must have gotten tilled up when they planted.’ He shuffled dirt around and tossed carrot after carrot into his pile until finally a dusty glimmer caught his eye.
Word Count: 99 For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch. Idea: True Grit
“It has that old world charm.” “It smells like death.” Anise inhaled the bitter air. Remains of buildings, and their citizens, dusted the ground in an ashen snow storm. In the distance an alarm still blared, signaling catastrophe. Something sweet and savory mingled with the distinct smell of smoldering wood. “Do you smell that?” “Delicious.” The sweet smell pulled Clove and Anise forward. In the center of the destruction a small bakery’s ovens hummed away. An old woman pointed her cane at the creatures. “You. Are you responsible for this? Have a cinnamon roll, I fucking hated this place.”
Word Count: 99 For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch
The observatory was dark, giving way to a stunning array of constellations above. These quiet moments with Danny were Maeve’s favorite. Too often she found herself pushed to the side for women giggling like school girls.
She always tried to be nice but sometimes, like during their long awaited reunion dates, she found it hard to be accommodating.
“I love you.” Danny pulled her closer. “Hey, I wanna ask you something.” “Of course.” Butterflies settled in her stomach. Was this it? “I wanted to ask …”
A shrill scream cut through the dark.. “Oh my gaawwddd! It is you!”
Word Count: 99 (per the rules) Phrase/Word/Idea: A Rock Star A little late entry for the Carrot Ranch flash fiction challenge.
The chair creaks under me, weighted by century old bones.
“Congrats! You just amaze me; to think of the things you’ve seen and done!”
I shift through the archives in attempt to place the young girl. She has the family blue eyes and my sweet Harry’s smile. A fanged man dominates her dark shirt.
“Old stories say witches and vampires drink blood to stay young.” Her face contorts uncomfortably as she slinks away, no doubt on her way to tell.
I can’t hide my sneer.
Maybe tonight I’ll run away. Surely it’s not too late to become a vampire.
Word Count: 99 Word/Idea: Growing Older For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch and inspired by my really saucy grandmother who was born in 1928 and reminds me everytime I see her that shes “too young to be this old”. And Happy Mother’s Day to the areas celebrating it today
Sometimes I forget to breathe. It’s not that I don’t want to. The air is just so heavy now. Like at the end of it all we only had sins left And they’re trying to smother the few of us that remain into non-existence. Of course I survived, heaven nor hell wanted me. I wouldn’t have pushed the button if I’d have known … I’m forgetting again. Today I saw it. Squat pale sandstone in the distance and figures bobbing in and out. The lab notes said they have a way to go back, If they’ll let me in.
Words blurred in and out of Delia’s focus. She slammed the book into her lap and glared towards the younger woman bound by ropes in the backseat.
“See, this is our problem. You never shut up.”
The woman blinked as the statement hit her but the gag prevented her from responding.
“Even now I can just hear you whining.”
The woman stared towards the slouching fabric above her despondently.
“I thought we were friends.” Delia mocked. “You know you can’t have friends in this business.”
The woman sighed.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow I’ll pretend I never knew your name.”
Word Count: 100 For the always fascinating Friday Fictioneers, click the link and blue frog to read more. I realize this is a beach and not a pier that you drop bodies off but you know … artistic liberties.
You always said the kitchen was our gathering place.
“Over fine food families are saved.”
We’ve finally begun washing away the smoke gathered on your plates. Odds and ends scavenged from charred remains gather dust among piles of bills. There’s a bill for every emotion it seems but our payment for grief falls short.
In your absence we gather under your favorite tree. We try to laugh but they burn our lungs on the way out, so we stand and pretend. Maybe we believe you’ll turn the corner, picnic basket in hand. Maybe if we just squint a little harder …