It Began

It began with a whisper. Sweet nothings breathed in my ear, their meaning sent goosebumps down my neck. I pulled you closer and whispered the words back. We made love.

It ended with a gasp. Your admission told to my face, the weight of your eyes buckled my knees. I pushed you away and screamed admissions of my own. We scorched earth.

It changed with a heartbeat. Proof of our love growing inside, the life of our child transformed my mind. I paved you a path and sobbed tears of joy. We made amends.

It transformed with a cry. The birth of a person, our tangible connection entered the world. I pressed you into my soul and made a small family. We lived life.

Boat Trip

For more Adventures of Linus and Margaret

“Whale!” Margaret shrieked.

Linus was equally as excited but, at nine, he had to show more self-control than his younger sister. There was a book in his hands and by the time he looked up, the whale was gone.

The wind whipped his hair into his face as they captain accelerated. It made it hard to finish the chapter.

“Linus! We’re getting closer.”

“Leave me alone, Mar.”

Then, from the direction of the ocean a spray of water hit his cheek. He turned his head and, closer than he ever imagined, was an eye.

He screamed.

Margaret laughed. “See, whale.”

Written for: Warmup Wednesday

This week’s Warmup Wednesday 100 word challenge: make the first and last words of your story “whale.”

Mirissa, whale watching, blue whale

Perfect Penelope’s Pressure

“Perfect,” she sneers. “How is anyone supposed to live up to that?”
Her reflection stays silent in reply.
“I don’t know why they have to build me up, put my face on the side of a building, on the taxi cabs, on buses. I don’t know why they need to tie that word to me, just because my name is Penelope!”
Her reflection stays silent in reply.
“They can’t think of anything more creative so they go with the easy alliteration.”
A knock on the door breaks her focus. “We need for a sound check, time to find perfect Penelope’s perfect pitch.”


Written for: Micro Bookends

Generations

“Jazz,” the man explains.
“That’s it, Grandpa? Jazz is your answer?”
The man catches his grandson’s eye. A twitch of a frown is all it takes for the boy to drop his head and, hopefully, his attitude.
“You asked, ‘what made me the saddest in life?’”
“But your answer was the same for, ‘what made you the happiest.’ How is that possible?”
“That’s jazz for you.”
He could see his grandson’s frustration, his fist clenching the pencil with teenage fury.
“My saxophone controlled the emotions of the audience, and myself. That’s why they called me the Master of the Age.”

Photo Credit: Jimmy Baikovicius via CC.

Photo Credit: Jimmy Baikovicius via CC.

Written for: Micro Bookends

Help!

Written for Flash Frenzy Round 77:

“And she keeps drawing the same face, then faces within the face. I’m not kidding, Doc. It has to be a problem, right? I should’ve changed her afterschool program. Or, at least kept her away from the movies her brother likes. You have to help us! I don’t know what else to do.”

The Doctor turned to Harriet. “Why do you draw this face?”

Harriet shrugged.

Her mother sighed.

The Doctor waited.

“I like it,” Harriet finally whispered.

“Why do you like it?” The Doctor asked.

Harriet bit her lip.

Her mother sighed.

The Doctor waited.

“Because it scares Mother.”

Artwork provided by Dib

Artwork provided by Dib: “Kindergarten Self-portrait”

X-Games

“X-rated,” Kyle said through a smile.

“And you found it here in the park?” Carla asked, head poking out from behind her longboard to glance at the naked curves.

“Well,” Kyle began slowly. “I may have brought it from home.”

“Gross! Why?”

“I wanted to show you?”

“Why, in everything that is holy, did that seem like a good idea?” Carla dropped the longboard and skated down the pipe.

“Crap.” Kyle followed. When he reached the other side of the half pipe, he had enough self-preservation to look ashamed.

“You told me you were curious about ladies…maybe.”

Carla sighed. “That was a secret! My sexuality isn’t one of your games!”

Photo Credit: Mike Fleming via CC.

Photo Credit: Mike Fleming via CC.

A Microbookends Tale


Judges Thoughts:

4th Place

A rite of passage story given a thoroughly modern makeover.

At the core of this story is a friendship between Carla and Kyle, both coming terms with the inevitable changes of adolescence.

There is an honesty and openness in their relationship that shines through the tricky subject matter.

Kyle’s curious to know more. Carla’s secure enough to start coming to terms with who she might be: strong enough to do so on her terms, rather than Kyle’s, but forgiving enough not to completely cut him out when he realises the mistake he’s made.

Carla’s a great character – I’d like to know more about her.

In today’s age, where x-rated material is so freely available to skew impressionable minds, it was reassuring to read a story that touches on this subject matter, but ultimately is about a boy and a girl getting to know each other as friends, rather than objects.

So while this piece of flash fiction stands by itself, it has the potential to withstand being fleshed out into something more substantial and longer. That’s why it made my top four.

Road Trip

“Plotting coordinates on a map,” Meagan answered.
“With push-pins?” Her son asked.
“Yes – not everything needs to be done digitally.”
“But then we have to take the map with us!” He grumbled.

Later, they sat side by side in the old Toyota she hoped she wouldn’t have to pass down to her son. She hoped a lot of things, including breaking down this wall that grew between them.
His nose stuck in his phone, her eyes on the road as they entered the mountains.
“Something’s going on with my phone! I’ve lost service.”
Meagan smiled, triumphant, but hid it quickly. “Time for that map! Now, isn’t this a twist?”


A Micro Bookends story: where they provide the first and last word, we provide the rest!

Carry On

Photo Credit: Paul Townsend via CC.

Photo Credit: Paul Townsend via CC.

“Carry everything you own,” the Announcement had said, posted on every door in the city.

Later, we learned that we had to take it all on our backs. When possessions are reduced to that, it’s easy to pick and choose what’s important. I was shocked how quickly the gadgets fell away to leave room for journals and photo albums.

Now the rain falls on our ten-by-ten shelter, the neighbors encroach on our borders but under the orange tint of the tent, we’ve found home.

My mother strokes my hair as I let the rain soothe me. I drift in and out of sleep as life continues on.


Written for Micro Bookends