Sunday, January 8, 2012

Flash Fiction Week of January 2nd

Happy New Years!

I hope your New Years went well and that the start of the new years is off to a good foot. I didn't do any flash fiction last week, taking a bit of a break from it for the holiday. The start of January not only brought me refreshed for flash fiction but also the start of Cara Michael's #WIP500. So far, I'm just a little behind but I will catch up. First off is my Nano 11 novel that I haven't finished than time to crack open my Nano 10 that I set aside. Ah, cannot wait to finish!

(My entry won Judge's Pet!)

Title: Cheese Curls of Doom

Across the aisle from the cube farm we toiled away in, Leland was busy devouring cheese curls. It was disgusting to watch but I found I couldn’t look away. It was like being a gawker at a car accident. You don’t want to look but can’t stop yourself. Each bright orange curl disappeared into his huge maw, a pie hole of epic proportions, leaving only a faint trail of orange dust on his chin and a thin line of drool.

No wondered why he was still single and living in his mother’s basement.
Turning back to my workstation, I tried to ignore the muted crunching by Leland as I looked at the days left on my calendar. I was eagerly counting down the days until my vacation started and I could get the hell out of dodge for a few weeks. A good long vacation would fuel my soul and keep me from offing my co-workers –although I doubt Leland would be missed.

The crunching stopped, only to be followed by licking and sucking as Leland meticulously removed every bit of artificial cheese powder from his hand. My stomach churned and I quickly crossed through today’s date on the calendar.



Title: An Ending at the Beginning

Celebrations were happening all across the city as people prepared for the new year, full of hope and promise. As fireworks exploded overhead, a gunshot rang out. There was no distinguishing the pop from the gun from the fireworks.

The bright lights of the fireworks shone in the conglomerate of cement surrounding the Space Needle. A spreading pool of blood trickled across, extinguishing the reflections. Steam swirled in the cold night air from the rapidly cooling blood.

A steel-toed boot kicked the body that laid on the ground. “Happy New Year, you dirty old bastard. See you in hell.”



Title: While In Rome

Alan laid on the bed in his small room and stared at the cracks travelling up the walls. The service was friendly at the Hotel Cordial, but all the friendliness in the world couldn’t make up for how run-down the unremarkable place was.

His muses were interrupted by the heavy footfalls of boots down the hallway. Another downside of the hotel – lack of any modern soundproofing.

Thankfully, the area of Amsterdam the hotel was located in was relatively conservative so the only noises he heard were people walking back and forth, instead of other more ... vigorous noises.

He sighed.



Title: Out of the Shire

“His name was what?” the cop asked as he took notes in his notepad.

“The old man said his name was Milo Scaggins,” the woman repeated

“Bilbo Baggins?”

She shook her head and huffed. “No, Milo Scaggins. Milo. Scaggins.”

The cop scribbled in his notepad again, paused, and read over what he wrote. He tapped his pen against the open page.

“What did he say to you?”

“He asked me if I wanted an apple.”

“An apple?”

“Yes, then he yelled ‘Opa,’ laughed, and ran off the ledge there.

The cop shook his head and flipped his notepad closed. Other officers were walking around the scene, taking pictures and measurements of some of the evidence. A coroner knelt over the body of the dead man.

“Thank you, ma’am. We will contact you if we need any further information.”

The woman nodded, relief evident on her face, and rushed off down the street.

“Hey Sauron, find out anything interesting?” one of the officers asked as he walked over with a smirk on his face.

“Not really, just another crazy old man.”

“Well, I found this on him. What do you think?” The officer held out his hand, revealing a gold ring.

Sauron’s eyes lit up and his lip curled as he plucked the ring from the other man’s hand. “I think this is an important piece of evidence, Theo. I will make sure it gets where it needs to go.”



(No Title)

The ivies were such simple things, but they brought Alana’s grandmother such pleasure. Alana would often watch her grandmother run her hands up and down the vines, checking for soft spots or damage, nurturing each and every shoot. It often looked like the ivy was embracing her, with the vines curled up around her arms.

This was how Alana wanted to remember her grandmother, now that she was gone, gone to the earth that fed her beloved ivy. Anytime Alana walked into the backyard now, she couldn’t help but see the shade of her grandmother, always tending to her ivy.


Enjoy until next week!

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