Thursday, February 23, 2012

Flash Fiction #11

The photo prompt this week was so easy, it was hard - for me.  Because of the way I write, I immediately saw monsters, and murderers, and bears.  (Oh my.)  Too many ideas swirled in my head, and they were all far too predictable.  Frustrated, I stepped outside "the box" and wrote something completely different.

As a lover of spicy food and the 2006 Bayou Bugaloo third place pepper eating contest winner, this is what I came up with...a little comedy for you to enjoy.

DING!  DING!  DING!  Justin threw the partially eaten chicken wing onto the heap of tiny bones in front of him and swabbed at the tears streaming from his eyes then blew his nose into the once clean towel.  

A belch rose from the napalm in his gullet and escaped past numb, red-rimmed lips.

Through the buzzing in his ears, he heard his name called.  Cameras flashed as someone handed him the gilded trophy.  2011 Hot Wing Champ! 

“You look like you’re in pain,” said the Star-Times News reporter.

“Not half as bad as I’m going to feel tomorrow,” thought Justin. 

(Remember, you too can play!  See look for the #FridayFictioneers on Twitter!) 

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday #10

Kept in the dark and fed bullshit.  Cecily’s eyes blurred with tears as she repeated the old joke.  She had been the last to know about Steven’s affair. 
“I have to work weekends if I want that promotion, honey.”
“It was late, so I slept at the office.”
“Her?  Lisa’s just a friend.”
When Cecily finally had the nerve to look at the photos, she was crushed but knew what she had to do.
She chopped the last of the Death Cap mushrooms picked during her morning walk and added them to the sauce. 
Steven would be eating alone tonight.
This was a hard photo prompt for me - at first.  Suddenly the story just seemed to spew forth, and I finished writing in record time - maybe ten minutes tops.  Funny, when I read this one to my husband of almost 24 years (as I always do), he paled a little and asked where I kept the Syrup of ipecac.  I think I scare him a little…

(Remember, you too can play!  See and look for the #FridayFictioneers on Twitter!)

**NOTE**  I cheated and changed a word after I submitted this piece.  I hadn't noticed that I used "late" in his first two excuses, so I changed the first one to "weekends"...I think it works better and removes the repetition!  Ooops...

Friday, February 3, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday #9

“PEW!  It stinks like animals up here!”
Alerted by the woman’s proclamation of disgust, he scurried to safety only seconds before the hikers appeared.  He felt ashamed, not by his musk, but because he’d been engrossed in the sunset and had not sensed the humans until they were too close. 
Animal?  He was glad to be thought an animal.  Humans were depraved and wasteful. Humans killed without cause and destroyed without purpose.   
Jeremiah sneered.  He no longer missed living among them. 
He waited until they were long gone before gathering his easel and paints and heading back to his cabin. 
(See if you want to play too.  Look for the #FridayFictioneers on Twitter!)