Sydney marveled at the flawless carrot cake on the picnic table. For the first time in her seventeen years she had one to be proud of. She cocked her head at the odd droning sound above, but the bright sun made it difficult to see. There was a myriad of colors and then a sickening thud as something dropped into the center of her cake.
“What’s that?” triplet Macey asked pointing at the pyramid shaped photo block.
Sydney’s heart leapt at the photo of Marcus on one knee holding a sign that said only “PROM?”
“Finally!” she said. “Finally!”
I will offer my apologies if I shattered a rule with a serial, and I promise this is only a two piece story, but I just felt like there was still a bit to tell.
Marcus noisily drummed his fingers while waiting. Theo was thorough, so thorough. But trying to get a helium balloon to drop a prom invite at a precise time and location was quite an engineering feat.
Finally, Theo’s scowl eased into a confident grin.
“You have it?” Marcus asked hopefully.
“Well, as close as can be with all we know. You sure she is there?”
“I incorporated her mom, to make sure she had to watch the triplets.”
“Oh yeah, she’s there,” Theo nodded.
Marcus fixed his eyes on his cell phone as he watched the balloon slowly lift away.
The discarded suggestions still hung in the air as the room fell silent. After all, it wasn’t every day you had the opportunity to hang a name on a super hero. This could be the stuff of legends.
“We must dig deeper folks,” Chairman Jim said pounding the table with his fist.
Well, Hawkman is taken!” Louie announced.
“That’s a stupid, bird-brain name anyway,” Linus replied. Linus never needed encouragement to continue, so he laughed as his own joke.
“I know,” Fred began as his face slowly bore a solid grin before he nodded his head in confirmation. “Raven!”
Hello all my Carrot Ranch friends. I apologize for being absent lately but the inspiration has been short and time was necessary to blow out the dust and sharpen the pencils. I hope all are faring through the winter well!
Waycroft held his smile, waiting for Melissa’s frown to fade. but fade it did not.
“You’re serious!” he said with laughter thick in his reply.
“Deadly!” Melissa said through clenched teeth.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I know what you are! But I am not alone. There is so many who will stand with me. This has to end!”
“Melissa,” Waycroft said, smoothly transitioning into the tone that usually allowed him to do what he pleased. “I’m sure we can take care of this.”
“Keep your seat. I have had your hands on me quite enough.”
After a brief four week sabbatical I am back to spin some more tales. The old story factory needed a breather as even I could see the creativity was strained. I hope all had a great holiday season.
When you are so well known you cannot go anywhere without turning heads it can sometimes be a drag. So Erwin chose to sneak into the Belikin Community Theater in disguise so he could be in the Christmas play he loved as a youth. Only his dear childhood friend Elyse, the director had any idea a Hollywood star graced the stage.
“Well?” she asked after the play was finished.
“I miss this,” Erwin said.
“We could make it a regular thing. I am happy to have you.”
“If my agent finds out she will go berserk!”
“So, don’t tell.”
Look for the Fictional Christmas Character Origin Story post on December 14th.
Nanjo drummed his fingers on the desk as his to slow laptop churned away at the internet address. He knew the latest rodeo deadline quickly approached and he wanted in.
“Five minutes!” he exclaimed when his screen finally held the needed information.
Nanjo typed so fast, too fast, relying on his newly installed bargain auto-correct to save him. In the bottom right corner his screen continue to tick away the time, adding to his panic. He checked the word count, but there was no room to explain his situation. His entry would look like this.
Carrot Ranch – 11-09-17
Clara stood in the kitchen sipping her coffee as she studied her husband’s favorite rocker. It remained in its normal place on the porch with his old dog Scout also in his regular place.
Clara could sense Casey, her adult daughter approach on her right. Casey was in to visit, worried about her widowed mother and how she was adjusting.
“He believes Henry will return at any time,” Clara said.
“Poor Scout, he has no idea what ha happened to his master.”
“How long do you think he’ll wait?”
“Until he is out of days too!”
Carrot Ranch – 11-02-17
Greetings to all my fellow Flash Fiction lovers. If you are looking for another vehicle to stretch your writing chops you have found it here. Carrot Ranch is hosting the first of eight Flash Fiction contests in October. I am a day past the official kickoff, but never fear, you have until October 10th to join in.
Earlier this week I was thrilled to receive the news that I was elected to Congress! Well, thankfully not our U.S. Congress, because that is one more mess. No, the Congress of which I speak is the Congress of Rough Writers, an esteemed group of wordsmiths from around the world specifically recruited to represent the Carrot Ranch. As A Rough Writer it is my duty to spread the word about the writing possibilities at the ranch.
The first contest, which is hosted by Norah Colvin, who hails from the Land Down Under, is called When I Grow Up. Basically you will use 100 words to do the following: Cast yourself back to six years of age, knowing what you do of life in the present; what would you want to be when you grow up and how would you go about achieving that goal? Tell us in 100 words, no more no less. It can be real or imaginary, serious or light-hearted. Extra points for comparing it to your childhood choice, if you remember it.
I am going to post the link tot he page here: When I Grow Up
But now I will put together my response. It will not see this blog until the day the judging results are announced, but I hope you will check back then.
“The tide will smash it to smithereens,” the youngster exclaimed.
“Could be,” The old timer said as he patiently carved more detail into the exquisite sand castle.
“There is too much weight,” a fellow claiming to be a civil engineer weighed in.
“Could be,” the old man nodded.
“Don’t you feel like you’re wasting your time>” A woman suggested.
“Could be,” He replied.
A few hours later the tide finally reached his creation and everyone wanted to see what the riptide would do.
But instead the water flowed right through.
“Ebb and flow,” the old man explained.
Carrot Ranch – 08/31/17