Call Box

I wrote my first ever flash fiction today. It was fun. And hard. My writing is in no way considered short, by any stretch of the imagination, so it was fun to challenge myself with a story of 350 words or less. Before this prompt, I didn't think it was remotely possible. How could I write a story that had only 350 words? What would that even look like. I don't think I even have scenes that short! I think flash fiction can be up to 500 words, but not for this contest. Anyway, if you're interested in reading it, the following link with take you to the contest page:

http://jessarussowrites.blogspot.com/2012/05/flash-factory-friday-5.html?showComment=1337976459362#c6439742150319495083

Actually, I suppose I could just put it on here... Okay, so if you want to check out the contest page follow the above link. If you just want to read my 347 word flash fiction? Well, I'll copy and paste it right here! Enjoy! :)

EDIT: The word prompts were Static and Dream and the picture I chose is:

I raced to the call box. Which number was it? Why couldn’t they be labeled? As far as this reality went, I needed out. It had started as such a dream, but now it was a nightmare. I needed time to think. The beast was growing and changing so fast. I heard the claws scrabble against the cobbles a few streets away, echoing through the alleys.

If I pressed the wrong button, I could end up anywhere. Sure, the garden behind the wrought iron fence looked innocent enough, but anyone could see that it was completely static – no breeze, no nothing. As soon as I made a commitment I had to either go there or stay here. Staying here wasn’t an option. The beast slammed into some trash cans. It must be having difficulty navigating the cobbles. Good.

I wracked my brain. Three was that deserted island, right? I think I’d figured out how to make that raft now. Wait. No. That was only three if I was coming from the moon colony. From here it was – Oh, I can’t remember! The crash of trash cans and a yowl from a cat told me that I had better figure it out right now.

The gate opened. Marjorie. Her eyes grew big and her mouth dropped open. “Gavin? Finally. You’re here!” Her smile was like the sun.

“I have to leave.”

“No. Not again.”

“I’m going to be eaten alive.”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know.”

“You just don’t want to tell me.”

“No, I can’t remember which number goes where.”

She laughed. “Does it really matter?”

“I guess not, as long as it’s not the alligators or the bats. I’m not even sure I can get to either of those from here.”

“Feed the alligators those squatty birds. They’re dumb as rocks.”

“Thanks.” My fingertips brushed her cheek.

“Try to stay put for more than 24 hours next time.”

“I do try.” We both turned when the beast howled as it rounded the corner. “Come on, lucky number four.” I pressed the button and walked through the gate.