The sound of an organ pushes through the silence. Elvis starts singing. Precious Lord, take my hand. Lead me on, let me stand.
I hear something in the background. It fills the empty notes. I try to explain it away as a bad download, but I listen closer, just to be sure.
There’s something under the noise. It’s visceral, angry. It scratches at the back of my eyeballs. The more I focus on it the closer it comes. A voice, whispering terrible things. I’m scared but I can’t turn it off. It’s too late for that. Much too late.
She cowered as the hatch opened.
Based on a prompt from @WriterlyTweets from the Tweetie place.
In six words or fewer, write a story about a stowaway.
Hey, it’s not much but at least I’m writing, right?
Where you headed?
What’s taking you down there?
Family stuff. It’s home. Used to be anyway.
That so? Well, I’ve got a second cousin lives out that way, maybe you know her? Esme Whitmore?
Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.
Really? She’s run a dance school out there for years.
Well, that’s alright, you been gone I guess.
So, you’re goin to see family then?
I… Yes. My mother, she had an accident.
Oh my. That’s terrible. She gonne be alright?
Yeah. She will.
Something to be thankful for at least.
Yeah. I guess you’re right.
Umm, what are you doing?
I just wanted to say, I loves you…
Oh God, please don’t.
But I loves you…
I eats the ends of the banana bread loaf so you don’t have to.
Why do you have to be such a dork?
I never leaves you an empty toilet paper roll.
Knock it off right now or I’m going to smack you.
Don’t be angry, I Ioves you!
You make me angry, because you’re a dork!
I said stop it.
Don’t do it.
Written in response to Carrot Ranch Communication’s July 13, 2016 flash fiction challenge prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story using the emotion of anger. Hey, it’s in there…
July 13: Flash Fiction Challenge
The Jaguar hasn’t moved in awhile. I watch him, while he watches me. Every now and then he flicks an ear on his broad head, or blinks in a way to suggest I’m of no real interest. Still his eyes stay focused on me, and mine on him.
We seem to share some sort of connection, though it isn’t from any sense of being alike. This magnificent beast, once wild and without equal, sits humiliated in his cramped cage. I stand before him, alone in a room full of people, completely lost in what I am told is freedom.
Written in response to Carrot Ranch Communication’s July 6, 2016 flash fiction challenge prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a cat.
July 6: Flash Fiction Challenge
The stag is just standing there staring at me. I don’t take my eyes off of him either. He only fades as wisps of my own breath rise and disintegrate in front of me. I’m too scared to move, not that I have anywhere to run.
“Git!” I shout at him, but the only response I get is the twitch of his nose.
“Go on now!” Nothing. Eyes as deep and dark as an empty well are locked on me, waiting. “Beat it ya wretch!”
I shift my stance to ease the pain in my feet. The stag levels his head at me, and takes a single step forward. I feel warmth running down my leg as I drop to my knees and start to pray.
I’m sitting here thinking about cancer, and I’ve decided that life isn’t fair.
Celebrities get shout outs and hashtags, while our friends and family are taken from us and nobody knows. Everyone is talented. Everyone is important. Right?
I’m lost in thought, when the boy pops up in front of me. He’s grinning ear to ear, tongue sticking through the space where a tooth used to be.
Just as quickly, he disappears. I realize that maybe I’ve got it all wrong. It’s not about recognition, it’s what we do with the time we are given that counts.
Hello there. Not something I really do but I wanted to post an open message to everyone who follows my blog, or has liked or commented on anything along the way. So here we go.
Life is busy, for many different reasons, I know that better than most. It’s been a struggle for me to find the time to write lately. Like time is something that can be found, it’s all around us, so really I’m here to say I haven’t yet been able to completely rid myself of lame excuses… Anyway, I used the April A to Z Challenge to get me back in to a regular flow, in my opinion it was a positive move.
So what now? I’m going to get back to the project that I started for NaNoWriMo, and haven’t really touched since. I’m going to do my best to get back to a once per week posting schedule here, and I hope you will stay tuned.
I’m done babbling now. Thank you for following along. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to read my words. Thank you for keeping me going. My greatest hope is that I will be able to return the favour in some small way.
“Son of a bitch Bubbles! What the hell was that?! I nearly crapped my drawers!”
“Want a drink friend? I’m going to make Zombies!”
“What are you talking about? It’s 9 o’clock in the morning.”
“It’s never too early to try something new my son! Or really old as the case may be.”
“No, I think I’m… Jesus! Why aren’t you wearing any pants?!”
“It’s a beautiful day! What better chance to give the mistah a little fresh air!”
“That… That is extremely inappropriate.”
“Calm down friend, no need to be so prudish.”
“I’m going back to bed…”
“Hey, wake up.”
“Wake up, we have to go.”
“We’re meeting my mother for dinner, remember?”
“We’re going to be late, let’s go.”
“Jesus, give me a minute would ya?”
“Okay cranky pants. Are you feeling alright? That was your second nap today.”
“I think so. Not sure.”
“Not sure? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not sure. What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you need to figure it out though.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to figure out I guess.”
“Well then, what are you waiting for?”