I’m sorry to overwhelm you with my incessant flashing, but I wrote these a bit back and never posted. Get comfy and prepare yourself to be entertained or bored to death. Either way, you might be at your computer longer than expected. These were submitted to the M3 Flash Challenge (Flash in the Pan) Winter 2012.
Wake (125) Exact word Count
Snapping out of his drunken daze for a brief moment, Jeremy noticed the cold beer in front of him at the bar. Usually the cap is the only thing off, but this bottle had a note attached. Focusing the best he could, Jeremy read the message.
Drinking is only a temporary feeling and solution, but when there ain’t no solution, temporary ain’t a bad way to go.
He realized he’d spent years, night after night, sharing his life with a bottle. As he looked around the bar, he saw others just like him. Realizing the solution to his problems didn’t live inside a bottle, he did the only thing he could. He raised his bottle and slurred cheers in the wake of his temporary solution.
Flash (100) 87 Words
Here again, I lie in the charcoal-colored night, approaching my once again deep sleep. Yet, this night is unlike all the others. My dreams will be replaced with memories. Visions that I could not recollect under any other circumstances flash by me.
My morning? Oh, please let us not forget my great awakening. Instead, those too will be replaced — replaced with a wake and mourning. How alike those words sound, yet their meanings are entirely different.
At least I don’t have to worry about insomnia anymore.
Dance (50) Exact Word Count
Much time has passed since my eternal slumber began. My body is frozen to the core as I listen to the thumping through the wood. My earthly blanket is covering me. Yet I feel no warmth. My departure is final now. There’s no turning back. I’ve had my last dance.
Fish (100) Exact
When I was young, maybe ‘bout nine, I ‘member that ole swing Daddy built an’ swingin’ to high heaven. On that swing, I found myself thinkin’ ‘bout important things. At home the only things I’d be thinkin’ of were frogs, county fairs, Momma’s apple pie and Joey Crawood. Joey was some weird, freckled-faced kid, who smelled like fish. He also used to put mud in girls’ hair. Meggie, my best friend, said Joey put more mud in my hair on account of him liking me. It was that or ‘cause he liked the way the mud clung to my braids.
Fire (125) I used 120
The side door of the van flew open and there was Rain. I figured she was around my age, but I couldn’t quite tell. Her clothes were simple; t-shirt and jeans, and she wore lots of makeup. You could tell she was a plain girl, who in all cruelty would be lucky to be considered homely. Her figure? She had none. She was as straight as an arrow, all arms and legs, her eyes a pale icy-blue. The dark mascara and liner around her eyes made their color even more stunning. And her corn-colored hair danced in the wind. Well actually, it really didn’t dance. It sort of resembled the aftermath of a brush fire, but it had its charm.
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Tags: Better late than never?, Flash Fiction, Flash in the Pan, Flashes, like a virgin pina colada, Word Vomit
