The Flood

So, here's another one I haven't tried before. It's called the 55 word challenge over at Jezri's Nighmares. I don't know if a story can really be told in 55 words...even after writing one, but I thought I'd enter anyway. Here's the picture prompt I used:


55 words exactly. Aren't you proud? :)

They say the water is starting to recede. The rush of the water makes that hard to believe, but I suppose it has to be rushing somewhere. Rushing, and taking with it everything I’ve ever known, ever cared about - even Marian. I think I’ll find a different road. Start over somewhere else, without the memories.

5 Minute Fiction

Yes, you read that right! 5 MINUTES. Did I make it? No. Not technically. Well, probably, but it didn't count. :) Apparently there's a flash fiction contest that is posted at 8:30pm (EST) on Tuesday evening called 5MinuteFiction. I just found out about it today. I decided I'd try to do it if I was around at 6:30 Colorado time (I'm on vacation). Well, I was finishing up the kids baths and I ran to the computer...6:39...Hmmm...there's time. :D  Well, I wrote that thing so fast I'm sure I burned tons of calories because my heart was pounding so fast I could hear it! Literally! Unfortunately, after putting it on the comment section and filling out my info, it was one minute late. 8:46 EST. Bummer. Oh well, I didn't make the cut off this week, but there's always next week...and it'll be 7:30 then...past bathtime anyway! Well, here's my first one: It had to include a new beginning and something ending.

“I can’t believe it’s time.” Sydney had been planning for this moment for as long as she could remember. Every day for years, this day had been in her mind – not necessarily in her conscious thoughts, but in the back of her mind, driving her.

Her mother stepped closer and placed her hands on her cheeks, “You’re ready for this.”

Sydney blushed, “Mom! You’re embarrassing me!” She half-heartedly batted her hands away. Once it happened, she missed her touch, so she grasped both of her mother’s hands in her own. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Her mother smiled, “I’m not far. I’m sure I’ll see you when you get a free moment in your busy schedule… Hmmm, perhaps not all that often.” She bit her lip. She had told herself not to cry. This was her only baby, and she was an adult now. “You’ll have a great time. Go. Have fun. Don’t forget to study!”

Sydney turned to go. She looked at her dorm for a moment, and smiled.

That's all I got finished anyway, and it was finished enough to try to send it in. However, if I had a few more minutes, I might've finished a little differently. Perhaps turning back to blow her Mom a kiss or squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath before telling herself that she WAS ready for this... Or both. But I didn't have that time, so...oh well. I'm off to write some more of my novel-in-progress now...no more flash tonight for me!

Canoodling

Today it's Tuesday Tales over at Glitterword! It's a 100 word flash fiction with a word and a picture as a prompt. The word is canoodle and the picture is beautiful:

See? Told you. Anyway, I had fun using both definitions of the word (To engage in caressing, petting, or lovemaking; To win over or convince by cajoling or flattering). I hope you enjoy!

“Remember the day we met? That tantalizing red dress accentuated every perfect curve, your eyes sparkled and your smile was as bright as the sun…”

“Don’t think you can canoodle your way back into my life!”

“Canoodle? Hmmm, sounds like fun…”

“That’s not what I meant.” She crossed her arms and sidestepped his reach.

“Now honey, don’t be that way.” He traced his thumb down her arm, “We were so good together.”

She shivered and blushed, “But it didn’t work out.”

“We could try again.” He moved closer.

She looked up. He was holding out a red tulip. Her favorite.

Barking Mad

So, I am judging this weeks Motivation Monday over at Wakefield Mahon's blog, so I am unable to enter... I instead went over to Cara Michaels blog for Menage Monday. Unfortunately, hers closes at 10pm eastern time and I am in Colorado this week...I was still putting the kids to bed at 8pm. Ah well, I posted it a bit late, so I'm not in the running to win. Not that I think I would because I decided that I was going to attempt to write a dialect this week. I've never done it before. I'm not sure it works. But I need you all to tell me what doesn't make sense or what doesn't come through because I hear it in my head...I just don't know if I effectively put it on the page. That being said, the promts this week were a picture of some bones, the phrase "barking mad", and a story about werewolves. I was really light on the last one...it's only slightly intimated actually...ah, well. If I had more words, perhaps I could've developed that a little bit more... Anyway, I hope you like it! Let me know about that dialect thing...

“Well, now, yous just barking mad, ain’t ya?”

“Of course I’m not mad! I’m telling the truth.”

“Naw, yous jus’ confused, is all. Dem bones was prob’ly jus’ a natural dyin’ animal. That’s what they do, ya know?”

“I swear, Grandpa, it was NOT natural. I’ll show you.”

Naw, I don’ need t’ see nothin’.  I been all over this mountain since I was a young’n. They ain’t nothin’ unnatural ‘bout nothing up here.”

“But this wasn’t when you were young, this was recent. The bite marks went deep into the bone and the spine was completely severed—”

“Ya done tol’ me alriddy! I ain’t deaf! But thinkin’ that they’s some monster roamin’ these parts just a’cause—”

“Grandpa, I think we ought to call the police…or the Department of Wildlife.”

“The DoW don’t got no need to come pokin’ they noses in our bidness.”

“Grandpa! It’s not safe—”

“Jus’ drop it, Sonny.”

“But what if you—”

“Don’ you worry none ‘bout me. I can take care a myself. Always have, always will. ‘Sides, I got a few things goin’ for me that no other beast got.”

“What? 80 years?”

“Naw, but that helps.”

Miss Marie

Since I was unable to enter Flash Factory Friday today because I'm the judge, I looked around for something else to write... I found The Friday Picture Show over at Jen DeSantis' blog! Her flash contest is a 100 word exactly picture prompt. I wrote two, I liked the picture so much! Here it is:



Cool, huh? Yeah, I liked it. The first is more sweet, the second is more creepy (in honor of Friday the 13th). I hope you like them! :)

By the way, do you know how hard it is to write a story in JUST 100 words...EXACTLY 100 words? Try it. It's hard. The second one gave me a lot more trouble than the first. It wanted to be a lot longer. Ah well, I think I got the point across...

My Dearest Marie,

You wanted to know about my life? My past? Things I’ve done? Well, I have this thing for postcards - some I find, some I receive, some I purchase - Each marking a life event, several I’d like to forget. I’ve kept them. Painful memories. Happy memories. Some best left hidden.

You deserve to know. I hope they explain things I’ve had trouble saying. I’ve placed them for you to find. The first is in our tree. It will tell you how to find the next.

Come find me when you’re done… If you still want to.

Forever, James

Here's the second one!

Marie had a bounce to her step, like this was the best decision ever - being alone with me.

“What’s that?” She pointed.

“A piece of trash?”

“It’s a postcard! Someone’s wedged it in.”

“It’s probably been here forever.”

“It rained yesterday. This ink hasn’t run.” Observant. “Oh my God, Bill! It’s addressed to me! You wrote this, didn’t you?” She smiled and began to read.

I knew what it said, ‘Bill is not who he says he is. Run. Now.’

Her face turned ghost white, terror in her eyes. She took off.

It was so much more fun this way.

A Curse or a Blessing?

One of the things I like so much about Motivation Monday is that I get to write 500 words! That gives me a little more time to create depth and explore ideas that may need more explanation than others. This one, for example, is an alien species. I could've written way more that 500 words (and I did go a bit over, but I was able to edit it to 498)! This is the one with the first line as the prompt, so I was given "you're on fire!" and went from there. I hope you enjoy!

“You’re on fire!” Colaxil whispered behind me. I looked down. Sure enough, my lower leg had ignited. I reached for my personal fire extinguisher and sprayed a couple one second bursts. I checked the gauge, I’d used over half the coolant already this morning. Ugh, professor Utleg was so frustrating! I stashed the extinguisher beside my chair and tried to focus.

“The warrior clans have the most difficult time learning the techniques, but crossbreeds, for some reason, have even more. Even a crossing of the most peaceful clans, sibvenner and congitslat, produce offspring with an excessive lack of control.”  My upper right arm burst into flame. I sighed, and reached for the extinguisher with my lower left. It was like he was trying to prove his point, and I was helping him. I sprayed the coolant and decided to keep the extinguisher in my hand while I took notes. If this was his topic today, I’d be better off not putting the thing down.

“However, if we breed within clans the reverse is true.” Professor Utleg paused when a student’s hand went up. “Yes, Brieont?”

“Professor, do the warrior clans still have difficulty with control when they breed within?”

“That’s hard to say, Brieont, because they don’t often do that. They actually pride themselves on finding mates from other warrior clans.” Utleg continued in that vein for a while. It annoyed me watching him. He didn’t even carry an extinguisher, like he was so controlled he didn’t need one. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe his ‘pure sibvenner for nine generations’ really did give him excessive control. I’d never even seen him spark!

I raised my upper left hand, indicating a desire to speak.

Utleg sighed, “Yes, Krisilloc?” I guess he was anticipating not liking my question, he usually didn’t.

“But, professor, why do we have the spark at all? The fires don’t even hurt—”

“You would know.” Maritax said under her breath just loud enough for me to hear, but not Utleg.

I turned to glare at her, but continued, “They don’t, so why are they a problem?”

Utleg crossed both sets of arms over his torso. I almost wanted to take the question back, but it seemed like he might actually answer it, so I kept my mouth shut. “Krisilloc, your exoskeleton will burn eventually. And when it does, it will make your body hot enough to do damage.”

“But isn’t there a reason we have the spark other than impetus to learn to control our tempers? It doesn’t make sense! –”

“Of course it doesn’t to you. You want to be special. You want your curse to be a blessing. Well it’s not.” My shoulder ignited. I sprayed a five second burst. “Your parents made you an abomination. You must live with it.” My hip ignited, then my upper left elbow. My coolant ran out.

Colaxil reached his extinguisher forward, “Here, use mine.”

I looked at it. What would happen if I just let myself burn?

The Interrogation

Flash Factory Friday was late this week due to travel (a wedding and a vacation by the host and the judge respectively) so I ended up writing this at 11pm on Sunday night. I'm actually shocked at how well it came out. I was brainstorming and thinking about it during the day on Sunday, but I didn't have time to get to writing until late...and I only wrote it then because I was having a birthday party for my eldest this morning and knew that there was no way I was going to have time to write anything then...So if I wanted to enter this week...well... That said, I really liked it. It flowed fairly quickly and while I had to tweek some things it came out pretty much whole. That was nice because I didn't have time for editing. The word prompts this week were: Patriot, apple, congestion. My brain built a lot of backstory, but I didn't include most of it. I may have to revisit this world in the future! :) Oh, and I won again! :) Yay! *does a happy dance* This flash fiction stuff is rewarding! I'm looking forward to sharing my novel with the world someday as well! :)

“So, you consider yourself a patriot, I assume?” The man paced back and forth in front of me asking questions, yet expecting no response.

Perhaps that was why I answered, “Of course.”

The pacing stopped. “Of course? Some would call you a traitor.”

“I know.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

I shrugged. What was the point of arguing? The man would only hear what he expected to hear. I wasn’t going to change any opinions today. That was coming.

“Do you know how dangerous that stunt you pulled was?” The man said it as though he assumed I had no idea what that bomb could do as well as no actual desire to cause harm. Like it was some game.

I shrugged again.

“If that area had been congested with people, you could have killed—“

“Oh, please! There’s no congestion during the sleep cycle!” Perhaps I hadn’t wanted to kill anyone, but I did intend the damage.

The interrogator lunged and stopped short of my nose by mere centimeters, “Who are you working for?”

Was that supposed to work? That intimidation thing? I shrugged again.

The interrogator pursed his lips and stood. “Fine.” He walked to the door and opened it. I thought he would leave me to stew, but instead he turned back into the room. He was holding an apple. An honest to God apple! Not that reconstituted mush they serve below in the grunt cafeteria, but a shiny, beautiful apple. My mouth filled with saliva and my stomach rumbled. “You hungry?” The interrogator said casually.

I swallowed and paused, gritted my teeth and shrugged.