Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practicioner:2021 Week #25
Tag Archives: flash fiction
CCC #127 04-15-21 Tragedy
“Timmy get down from that roof immediately!” the nurse said. She had gone to his room and not discovering him there, knew just where he would be.
There had been problems like this before, which is why he was sent here to the institution.
Now Nurse Amelia had to get him down before another tragedy struck. She only prayed she wasn’t too late.
Timmy’s father had jumped to his death just last month.
The Rest Stop-A Class Project
About four years ago, I took a writing class on Skillshare and this morning found it was still getting likes!
I think I’m ready to share it and get feedback on whether or not I should develop it into a longer story. I’d be grateful for some honest opinions, be gentle, lol.
The Rest Stop
It was a cloudy day in early spring, she smelled the freshly mowed grass and wild onions as she stepped from the car. Vehicles zipped past on the freeway, blowing dust and noxious fumes, hitting her face like a gritty blast furnace. On the walk to the restroom, she took time to appreciate the view, blue mountains to the north and wildflowers closer in, the bugloss and the hounds tongue, their soft purple and red petals blowing in the breeze. Beautiful! Now she hurried, not only to relieve herself, but to wash the grime from her face. Soon, she would be in those mountains, fulfilling her lifelong dream. She could hear the wind, whistling through the tall pines, and imagined how fine the peace and solitude would feel, once she crested the summit. She was to be the first Polish female to ever attempt the dangerous climb.
Entering the lobby of the visitor’s center, the smell of lemon disinfectant and rose air freshener filled her nostrils. She past the vending area and grabbed a bag of salted nuts and a coke for the road, knowing it would be hours before she reached base camp. Once she relieved herself, she washed her hands, again finding herself daydreaming of the journey ahead. She could almost smell the acrid smoke from the campfire and taste the frosty apple ale they would drink in celebration of her victory. As for now, she’d better get a move on, she had a good day’s drive ahead, into the annuls of history.
Word of the Day Challenge
No Ill Will Here-CCC#82-WOD Challenge Combo
Thirteen-year-old Sara and her friends, all preteens like herself, approached the “haunted” barn with a cautious curiosity. “My brother says that devil worship goes on in there,” Sara said to Jodi.
“Nonsense!” Jodi replied. “My friend Casey says it’s perfectly safe inside and nothing evil is going on in there. Just a hang-out for kids who want to do what they want, away from home and rules.”
“You mean, like smoking and sex?” giggled Sara.
“I mean, like getting together with friends and playing games or something, Sara, get your mind out of the gutter.” said Jodi, rolling her eyes.
Sara grinned sheepishly as they made their way to the huge sliding door, located to the right of some thick overgrowth of trees and brush.
Pulling the door emitted a sharp metallic CREEAAKK, and the small gaggle of girls slowly entered, their eyes trying to adjust to the light. The four females, Sara, Jodi, Christal, and Liz simply stood there, rooted to the spot as their eyes landed on a scene out of Saturday Night Fever…a disco ball hung from the ceiling, spot lit by colorful lights as it spun lazily to the steady beat of Bad Company playing on the stereo.
Across the room, four teenage boys lounged on a long couch, as if waiting for the girl’s arrival.
“Whatcha standing there for ladies, let’s go!” Brandon shouted, jumping off the couch to come escort Sara to the large dance floor, lit up seemingly from underneath. Casey was there too, as well as Tommy, and Greg.
Shyly, Sara moved forward and soon, all eight teens were dancing and laughing, as their clueless parents worked to put food on the table.
Word of the Day Challenge
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #79
Her Favorite Ride
Rising on the tracks to dizzying heights, the roller coaster crested, then started it’s downward rush. Blowing her hair back from her screaming face, sheer terror infused with giddy delight as they whipped through turns, dips, rises and falls. She LOVED riding the rollercoaster, her favorite ride at the amusement park. What she would hate was the following months of chiropractic care to repair her shaken bones. Getting old was not for wussies.
Twisted Trunk Travels 