Sledding for 10K – CCC #46 – 09/26/19

I blame Dale from a Dalectable Life for this one. She is always ever faithful to comment on my weekly Friday Fictioneers offering, so i intended to return the favor this week, but instead found a new Photo prompt to spin my fiction wizardry. It is for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #46. As with most of its ilk you take a photo and craft a response. Except the scope is quite different. You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

• An answering photo
• A cartoon
• A joke
• A caption
• An anecdote
• A short story (flash fiction)
• A poem
• A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
• An essay
• A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

• Your creative offering is indeed yours
• Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

The Photo

“Imagine it with snow!” Alex said, his voice full of excitement. “It is sloped exactly right for a good speed gain before going down that big hill.”

“So why are we here now?” Jenny asked.

“Silly girl, we need to know how it will work when covered in the snow. If you and I want to win the competition and the prize money.”

“Competition? Money? What are you talking about Haslip?”

“Your big brother really did keep you in the dark. Did you ever wonder where he got the money for the Barracuda?”

“Yeah?”

“Old Man McNamara, in the mansion up there,” Alex said pointing to the biggest house in the county. “He used to ride this slope every winter and now he is too old. But he gives the team that beats his “record time” a check for $10,000!” Jenny snickered at the cheesy air quotes Alex made.

“For real? $10K!”

 

Julia’s Lament – CCC #45 – 09/19/19

I blame Dale from a Dalectable Life for this one. She is always ever faithful to comment on my weekly Friday Fictioneers offering, so i intended to return the favor this week, but instead found a new Photo prompt to spin my fiction wizardry. It is for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #45. As with most of its ilk you take a photo and craft a response. Except the scope is quite different. You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

• An answering photo
• A cartoon
• A joke
• A caption
• An anecdote
• A short story (flash fiction)
• A poem
• A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
• An essay
• A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

• Your creative offering is indeed yours
• Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

The Photo

Julia walked aimlessly through the autumn touched reeds, lost in so many thoughts. The letter was laced through the first three fingers of her right hand, flapping in the wind. The words etched on her mind now she really didn’t need the worn piece of stationary. Eddie had made one thing clear, if his life continued past the deployment to Korea it wouldn’t with her a component.

Forever just didn’t mean what it used to.  She expected to replicate the long lasting relationships her family treasured. She reread the words for the umpteenth time, straining her eyes to see what was between the lines, but all she could find was the stark black and white. “We are through!”

“WHY?” she shouted and heard echo in the distance. She knew there was no answer especially none to satisfy the intense pain in her heart. The scene would have been one she would have captured in her camera lens a day earlier, but now she was lost in despair.

Sophie’s Choice – Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – 05/29/17

Photo copyright – Yinglan

Sophie let her mind sift through the catalog of memories to search for the last time she had been sitting somewhere waiting on a stake out like this. January 22nd of 2007 outside of the Handlebar Saloon. That was long ago, before she made detective. These days this kind of time was not something to be wasted on a murder case. But this witness refused to meet anyone but her. With the mayor so adamant that this case be solved immediately, really what mayor wasn’t impatient, Sophie agreed to break her unwritten rule and submit to the mind-numbing wait.

 

The trolley slowed as it reached the point of drop-off and Sophie stood to meet her source. But to her surprise there was not one person with a red scarf, but more than she could count. She felt her displeasure mount within her and decided the witness had panicked and was trying to disappear.

“Detain everyone with a red scarf,” Sophie said into her lapel mike.

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This is a recurring character in my fiction writing, Detective Sophie Marcus. In time I intend to put together a longer treatment with her and her partner, but for now I am just developing her character traits in snippets like this. This is my entry for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.

 

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Making the Connection- Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer – 05/23/17

Miriam settled on the beach for the final time trying to keep the fond memoires fresh in her mind. She never expected to be here, much less take back such treasured memories. It was all a mistake, her being here. First there was the mysterious invitation she received in her email. But it was from Bradley, the guy she lost her heart to as a freshman at the university.  Any chance to re-board that train was one she would take.

How could she know it wasn’t from him but from his roommate, Eric, who had loved her from afar for the whole time the trio worked their way through their courses. She liked Eric and wondered why he always complicated her efforts to be with Bradley. Only this weekend did she learn the truth of his affections. Eric had begged Bradley to create the opportunity.

Now as she sat holding his hand she wondered what her new reality could be.

 

When Reality Isn’t Real – Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – 05/16/17

Elyse Begley watched her subjects as they reacted to her latest test cycle. There was a good variety of needs represented in her two dozen patients. None of her colleagues ever admitted trying an alternative treatment such as this, but that did not deter Elyse. She embraced technology such as virtual reality glasses as a regular component of her psychology work. Her assistant, a new graduate student, watched in amazement as the experiment played out.

“What are they seeing?” Kelsey asked.

“It depends. Every mind is different. Plus there are different medicines at work in every brain.”

Elyse was especially interested in the experience of Les. He was her most troubled patient. She really wanted this to help him. He needed to be able to function again. The world knew him by his pen name, H.A. Marcum. His claim to fame was a series of best selling mysteries that kept the world breathless every three months when another rolled off the press. But it had been almost eight months since his last success.

A Boat for Bill – Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers – 5/02/17

Bill Turner was tired. Tired of doing the same old stories every year. He was the senior reporter for the Beacon Herald and had covered every story coming out of Penley River for thirty-seven years. Included in that number was twenty-seven times that he covered the Woodchuck festival. Everyone loved to rib him with the old joke “How much wood could a wood chuck chuck?” Bill really didn’t care. It was his final time having to endure this, so he sucked in a deep breath and headed off to do the work.

Bill made his way through the usual jumble of furry creatures eager to show off their skill. He gradually wound through the crowd to find a couple of sheets tied between two trees. When he parted the sheets he was met with a huge round of applause.

There was a wooden statue of him to the right and a brand new wooden fishing boat like the one of which he dreamed. Several woodchucks stood smiling as they watched the crusty newsman wiping his tears.

“For treating us like equals!” the wood chuck spokesman said.

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/05/01/fffaw-challenge-week-of-may-2-2017/

 

VR Won’t Put Money in Your Pocket – Carrot Ranch Weekly Flash Fiction

“What the heck is Ramsey doing out there Clem?” Abe questioned.

His seventy-two year old neighbor was blasting away at the ground, kneeling to watch the newly created hole, moving another ten feet and repeating the process.

“Ever hear of them Virtual Reality things?”

“Yep.”

“Apparently Ramsey strapped on Aaron’s new set last night and watched the Beverly Hillbillies. Now he’s convinced he can repeat Jed’s luck,” Clem said

“Stupid redneck. Don’t he know he is using the wrong ammo?”

“What are you talking about?”

“In Jed’s book ‘Finding Oil For Dummies’ he said to use real lead shot!”

 

 

Table 19 – Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – 04/25/17

 I always told Rita if the was twenty-five years younger I would have swept her off her feet and marry her within 24 hours. She was comfortable with the decision to be alone. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still willing to find my one true love.

I found myself looking for Table 19 when I arrived at the diner for my 4th Rita arranged date. I settled in to grab a menu so as to not look so conspicuous as I waited.

“Why is he at my table?” I heard a woman shriek. “I always eat at 19!”

Rita tried to reason with the woman, but she was unmovable.

Free food, a stack of coupons, nothing Rita offered seemed to satisfy the demands.

“Ma’am,” I said. “Please excuse the inconvenience. I was meeting a blind date, but I am sorry to cause you trouble.”

“Okay Kelsey, you can come,” the woman said suddenly different.

I turned to see a gorgeous girl approach.

“I’m her gatekeeper, and you pass my test”

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/04/24/fffaw-challenge-week-of-april-25-2017/

Where Do They Hide the Navels – Carrot Ranch Weekly Flash – 04/20/17

Jerome never had seen belly dancers, at least not in person. When he imagined it he chose to rely on the one image burned into his mind, that of a beautiful Barbara Eden in her genie outfit. So one could imagine his excitement when he saw their would be belly dancing in this three hour dance recital.

When the music began Jerome sat up in anticipation, but ten seconds later he sank back dejected. There was no Barbara Eden to bee seen anywhere near the stage. Instead it resembled a cruel joke. There was plenty of belly on display.

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I am not sure this came off as funny as I intended, but it is a true story. At least seven or eight years ago I attended one of these marathon dance recitals and the belly dancers that made their appearance were nothing like Barbara Eden either. Without being unkind they were just a little older than a belly dancer in their prime.

April 20 Flash Fiction Challenge