The Journey Part 2

#MenageMonday Flash Fiction Challenge
100-200 words
Three Prompts:
The Photo, above, courtesy of ABC News
The Phrase: “[didn't/don't/doesn't] want this” (you can choose one of the three options and this can appear anywhere in the story)
The Judge’s Prompt: The Phoenix – the bird, the legend, as a symbol, a statue, as an idea, as a concept, or even abstractly as a suggestion or condition.

My Entry: The Journey Part 2
(For Part 1 click here.)

It was too early for dusk, and yet the sky darkened.

Crouched in the remains of a burned-out building, Jessa squinted at the Bright through almost-closed eyes. She’d heard stories. The Bright would dim, but then it would reappear. She was almost sure of it. Should she begin her dusk trudge early?

The metal gridwork, remnant of the Before, felt like protection and she didn’t want to leave it. But she should take advantage of the encroaching darkness to move. There’d been no signs of another soul for more than three sen’nights and her journey must be almost over. The Colony was close. It had to be.

I don’t want this, she thought, closing her eyes and still seeing the crescent ball of fire on the inside of her lids. Stay or move? She prayed to the None, as she did every morning, every night, for Jazzy’s soul in the After, for her own safety. She wished… but there was no wishing, only doing.

She peered south, hoping and praying for the first vision of the rusted iron towers of the Colony. But there was only ruin.

Making her decision, she grabbed her precious pack and rose from the ashes.

200 words
Honorable Mention
Dee | @dee_768
Phoenix Says: I love the simple names for things: the None, the Bright, the Before, etc. I remember part one of the story, too. Plans to continue? I’d read it!

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The Writer

#MenageMonday Flash Fiction

Word Requirement: 100-200 words

Three Prompts:

1. The Photo, above.

2. The Phrase: "need more time" (can appear anywhere in the story).

3. The Judge's Prompt: storms--mental, emotional or physical.

My Entry: The Writer

The fire crackled, yellow flames flaring to blue as she tossed another crumpled page in.

"That's right, burn, you fucker," she cursed, adreneline storming through her body.

"I'm home." Her husband appeared through the back door, his brow creasing when he realized what she was doing. "What's going on?"

"Ten fucking years. I've had enough." Her voice choked on the last word, and the tears overflowed. Blinded, she nevertheless continued feeding the fire, one page at a time.

"You heard from Smallpress, then?"

"I used their letter with the kindling." She sniffed back the runniness of her nose. "Tomorrow I'm going down and putting in my application at the factory."

He put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, babe."

"Ten fucking years," she repeated, giving up and sobbing against his chest.

"Maybe you just need to give it more time," he suggested.

"I don't need more time," she mumbled. "I need more talent."

All of a sudden her head jerked up. "Wait. I've got an idea."

She jerked away from him and raced into the house. As he doused the bonfire, from the open window he heard the clattering of the typewriter.

192 words

Honorable Mention
Dee |@dee_768
Ah, the endless struggle of the writer. Love the sense of hope at the end.

Partly inspired by my dearest Muddy babe.

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The Bookkeeper

Tuesday Tales
100-word flash fiction challenge

The Photo: left

The Secret Word: Conjugal

My Entry: The Bookkeeper

The rising sun lit his desk chair, dust motes mocking him.

"Shit," he muttered, knowing he had to sit down and get to work.

He sighed as he opened the ledger, his nemesis, gathering piles of receipts and bits of paper, beginning the entries. If he concentrated, he could finish in time to meet her for dinner. The thought of her made him smile.

Hours later, his adding machine whirred as he totaled the columns, debits and credits dancing in conjugal bliss.

"Double shit," he muttered when he examined the tape.

The ledger, like his life, was out of balance.

100 words

Honorable Mention:  Best Use of the Word “Conjugal:”   Dee -  @dee_768

Praise: Love it! This one was an easy pick for Honorable Mention, and very nearly took the cake. I especially enjoyed the image conveyed by “debits and credits dancing in conjugal bliss.” Mmm, yeah, all those pluses and minuses moving together…ahem. Pardon me.

Criticism: In the end, I felt that some of the “telling” in this story might have been better as “showing,” which is why it comes in second.


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The Journey

#MenageMonday Flash Fic

Word Requirement: 100-200 words

Three prompts:

1. The Photo, above

2. The Phrase: “[ ] can explain” (this can appear anywhere in the story)

3. The Judge’s Prompt: inspired by a less-than-inspiring week of customer service experiences, this week’s prompt is a theme and/or quote "Why should I care?"

My Entry: The Journey

Jessa huddled in the shadow of the concrete monolith, muttering a prayer to the None, tears burning her eyes.

"Don't let him find me. Please."

Jazzy's cries ended mid-shriek and the silence was broken only by the thwack of rebar and grunts of the Ravager. Jessa's senses screamed "run," but silent movement in the jungle of ruins was impossible. All she could do was hide and pray.

Hours later, the Bright sank below the jagged horizon and Jessa's conscious returned. Dusk and dawn were the only time she and Jazzy dared...

Her mouth distorted in a silent wail as the memory crashed back. But through the anguish she knew she had to keep going. It was at least another thirtnight back to the colony, longer if she didn't take advantage of every mo of halflight.

"Why should I care?" she whispered to the None. "I'm still here. None can explain the why of it."

She closed her eyes and sent forth her senses, ears open for any faint ding or crunch, hands and feet in the rubble seeking infinitesimal vibration. The stillness of the planet was complete.

With no hint of any presence, she rose and shouldered her pack.

200 words

Week 30 Champ: Dee | @dee_768
Katherine Says: If she ever writes this book, I would want first crack at publishing it.

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Tunnel of Love

For the first time ever, I tried writing a flash fic.

Word requirement: 100-200 words

Photo: left

Phrase: You're joking

Judge's Prompt: Saluting the Irish and drunken souls everywhere this week, in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, the prompt theme is: a lucky day (however you choose to interpret luck)

My entry: Tunnel of Love

“You’re joking.” She stared past the peeling-paint swan’s head as they floated down the glorified drainage ditch. The mouth of the cavern gaped, ready to swallow up the small boat.

His white teeth gleamed in a face alternating between beautiful and wicked as the shadows cast by hanging moss flicked over it. “No worries, babe. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Tunnel of love, yeah, right,” she muttered under her breath, but it was hard to drag her eyes away from his muscled arms flexing as he paddled. She thanked her lucky stars that he’d chosen her as the first. The line of women filled the dock and overflowed into the street, each waiting a turn to give her donation and ride with this gorgeous stranger.

The fetid odor of swamp mingled with his exotic scent and she looked down to see that water was seeping into the bottom of the boat. She pulled her feet back. “It’s leaking.”

“No worries, babe,” he repeated, his voice thick as the boat slipped through the portal into darkness. His arms snaked around her. “My lucky day,” he murmured just before his teeth sank into her throat.

191 words

Menage Monday Challenge

P.S. You'd be shocked if you knew how long this took me to write. Man, am I ever out of practice. But at least I'm writing.

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