FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~ What Truth Awaits? ~

I lay in bed, reading a long lost friend. No. Nothing like that, not really. That sounds too fantastic, too contrived. I missed some modern greats in my youth for I was doing other than reading. What I was doing was living (something we forget all too often). I was by the sword which was a guitar and all that came with. Never the less, there I was not minutes ago, book in hand, two sheets to the wind, the courthouse tower ringing out the hour only steps away, and this thought would not settle, damn it, for all I wanted was to learn what the Gunslinger would do next and enjoy my sweet buzz. Someone (thing) was speaking. Get up you fool, the voice said. Not the first time in my life, I might add. And I know this voice, we’ve become enemies of a sort because I’m stubborn and don’t play by the conventions. But tonight I was moved, so I ventured down through narrow passage lighted by street torches beyond, fumbled the cork and poured, and then powered up the old faithful. So here I now sit, upon a bar stool, with a freshly poured Cab, pecking at the keys. By the time one reads this the cab will be dry and my neighbors might know my level of apnea induced by reds and pollen. Fair well and fear appropriately, my friends.

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/05/15/17-may-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, sneak a peek inside, what wonders you shall behold.

Here’s my contribution:

What Truth Awaits?

She fled through the window which once framed everything wonderful. Down the blossom covered trellis, her escape made.

Could hate be love deceived?

Twelve.

Mustn’t there be other?

Beyond white pickets and onward, nigh three crush petals and scattered memories, she ran, guided by the only lover she would ever know.

A prying light.

Another fence.

This iron, a barrier inward or out she cared not. She climbed, leaped. She crouched seeking shadow’s shelter.

In silvering moonlight she could just see the grid upon which she now stood, then, something moved. Nearby, a hungry grinding began to chew the earth.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Do Unto Others~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/05/01/3-may-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, rest your bones.

Here’s my contribution:

Do Unto Others

The paper was stowed within a corked, blue bottle, opaquing in the surf, well on its way to becoming sea-glass. Hand scribed letters, themselves masterpieces, were woven into a simple phrase.

Do unto others.

Jolie, admiring her find as she approached the resort entrance, read aloud and became suddenly woozy, the sun pierced, as if she’d been wandering a desert.

The hotel facade appeared to bubble, sections sloughed revealing human skulls with hollow eye sockets. The paper slid from her grasp and settled upon the walkway.

Impregnated within the script, given life by utterance, the swallowing darkness bade Jolie welcome.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Keep-Safe~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/04/24/26-april-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, sneak a peek inside, what wonders you shall behold.

Here’s my contribution:

Keep-safe

“A jewelry box?” Dor queried descending the library ladder.

“Of a kind. Go ahead, open it.” Dor obliged, then softly cooed. The interior was lined in deep red velvet, an inlaid mirror adorned the hinged lid. Nana relished the child’s awe. “Tell me, Dor. What do you see?”

“A home for my bracelets! But the mirror, it looks like a stormy sky.”

“It’s my Keep-safe box, Dor, which is now yours. Whatever you place inside stays locked away; safe forever. However, you mustn’t ever place something inside without which you cannot live.”

“I don’t understand?”

“It contains secrets, my dear.”

A bit more of a tease….　

“When you have a secret that requires extra safe keeping, something that needs to disappear, you turn the key to the right two times, until it clicks, then open the lid and put your secret inside.” Dor’s expression made Nana think of what a Picasso meant to capture bewilderment must look like. “This is very important, child. Turn the key to the right, two times, until it clicks. You must always turn the key to the right.”

“Why ‘always to the right’?”

“Sugar, we wouldn’t want these kinds of secrets escaping.”

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Food Chain~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/04/17/19-april-2013/   

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, taste the thrill.

My contribution:

Food Chain

Situation Room, 17APR2013, 1806 Hours

“Tell me what I’m looking at?”

“It’s a housing unit, sir.”

“Looks like a wasp nest,” observed one of the joint chiefs as he passed the multi-celled, gray-paper bell to the POTUS, who simply directed, “Explain.”

A crackly voice emanated from a cube on the table. “It’s an engineered bee. Project Honey-Pot.”

“Right. To preserve crop pollination. The common honeybee is extinct.”

“Precisely. We’ve designed a hybrid hornet-honeybee.”

“Great. So, what’s the problem?”

A shiny dome began to wriggle from one of the cellular recesses, then another, antennae exploring, testing, searching, serrated jaws churning.

“They’re venomous, sir. And extremely unstable.”

jKb

 

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~The Rider~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/04/10/12-april-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, get on your bike and ride.

Here’s my contribution:

The Rider

“Where is he?”

“Inside.”

“You sure?”

“That’s his…machine. Ain’t it?”, said like the word was a bitter worm wriggling on the back of the tongue.

Stragglers joined this makeshift militia. He was no murderer, nor rapist; his crime the loss of God in favor of the demon called Science.

The machine ticked mockingly fueling the mobs hate. The Rider beyond the double-hinged doors, sat at the far corner, sipped piss-warm beer. He unholstered an oversized chrome-plated blaster, set it before him on the table and began to whistle a song that would soon become part of the legend.

jKb

 

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Where The Crow Roosts~

What is the purpose of your art?

Time to share.

A friend from years past made a social media posting that essentially stated ‘The first five people who respond to this post will receive a free piece of my art.’ I was instantly struck by her generosity. The gist was that the recipients should then bare the responsibility to pay it forward, and so on.

The great ripple effect had begin.

My problem was I wasn’t one of the five. Story of my life. I responded anyway. I mean, why not? I risked nothing in doing so. In fact, by even giving my response I was letting her know her reach and influence was broader than she anticipated. She soon responded back that I too could participate.

That was a few weeks ago, the pact was nearly forgotten, until I heard the sound of dogs barking, which is the sound that accompanies the approaching mailman each day. Wise as he is, he walks the neighborhood with a pocket full of dog treats.

Who knew this day would not be like each other? It sounded very much the same.

Hanging from the mouth of the mailbox just outside my front door was a special delivery. Enclosed inside the cushioned mailer pouch was a 3 inch square painted canvas mounted on a wooden frame and, something from a lost era, a handwritten note. These blessings arrived yesterday.

I am completely moved by the thought, the effort, the freely shared energy, the connection.

Being who I am and having the limited gifts that I do, I was motivated to write a flash of fiction based on her art, and then share with all of you and invite you to perhaps continue her experiment in some fashion.

In a complete abuse of the #FridayFictioneers I’ve tagged and linked (and hope Rochelle appreciates and understands; the story does however fit with this weeks prompt) so that you all might take this gem and toss your own art-sharing-pebble.

After all, what are we striving for anyway?

The copyright on this art belongs to S.O.

So, here we go. My contribution:

Where The Crow Roosts

Soft footfalls upon layered molderings, careless boney whispers between leafless trees, these the witnesses to the broken man’s burden as he trudged, ever onward, driven by a need for simple answers, for self discovery and a truth of his own, or perhaps for something broader, more absolute.

And a key; not something crafted of iron, but an understanding.

A rusted throaty utterance halted his progression, interrupted his brooding. Refocused, he immediately recalled this place and what he had done. And as an iridescent form settled among the boughs above, he understood this place would hold importance for him yet again.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~According To Plan~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/03/27/29-march-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, the flame can only linger a short while.

Here’s my contribution:

According To Plan

“The thing about magic,” Sophie shared while setting two oil lamps upon the table. She produced a lighter, brought life to one and repositioned the hurricane glass.

“…not the slight-of-hand stuff, I mean the real thing…” She exhaled a kiss against the glass and the flame shimmered. “Pay attention.” Sophie began to blow and the flame quivered, then, simply snuffed out.

With a finger snap another flame licked to life in the second vessel, only this conjured tongue cast thick shadows.

“…it doesn’t always go according to plan.”

The shadows melded.

“And sometimes, it does.”

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Well Wishes~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/03/13/15-march-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, I have a message for you.

Here’s my contribution:

Well Wishes

“I was never good at confrontation, my love.” His voice was firm and unwavering. “My heart races, my palms sweat. Thoughts leave my head… So I came here to your new lover’s home. It is so comfortable. I brought your favorite, stole them from your dead mother’s front walk, the very same you watched bloom each spring, yes? Do you like them? I never cared much for flowers. They wilt. They die. Like love some would say.  Like your new love, destined to wither to dust. Fair well, love. Ah, yes. One other gift awaits you in the en suite.”

jKb

 

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Maddening~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/03/06/8-march-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, hurry, you mustn’t delay.

Upon viewing this weeks prompt a thought struck me…What if Ray Bradbury had penned something like The Wonderland Chronicles. A tinny taste arose. I began.

Here’s my contribution:

Maddening

This seemed all too familiar, almost a dreamscape. I felt awake. Wasn’t I?

Standing upon the riser, unable to recall if I were rising or descending, I was struck by such an absurd impression: I had been captured or restrained within a conch shell.

Preposterous.

I reasoned this the throat of a tower and dared tread lower to effect my escape, and glancing behind, discovered I was directly where I’d begun.

Indeed, curious.

Pondering, unable to recall events prior, I elected to climb.

A white light throbbed as a digitized voice prompted, “Hurry ahead, Alison. You mustn’t be late.”

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Cargo~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/02/27/1-march-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Would you like a ride?

Here’s my contribution:

Cargo

“Sure she do. Mightn’t be pretty like one of them new, shiny ones, but all that’s just the outside. No? If you stroke her she purrs right good.” His rhythm and tone charmed. Rols was amazed the words hadn’t induced an immediate catatonic state.

“I only need to get back to D.C.” Rols thumbed seven Franklins, handed them to the salesman.

“She can do.”

Rols slid behind the wheel. “If it don’t, I’m coming back.”

“Yes sir.” The salesman produced a plastic smile. “An’ remember, Mr. Rols, whatever you do, don’t open that trunk.”

jKb