Blame

Furious at the Knight who stole the affections of his princess, the Sorcerer cast the ancient spell. Compelled by magic and the blood of innocents Gaia pushed forth the blister of rock and dirt trembling as she ejected her infant spirit from her womb.

Friends

Suzy hid her clunky boots, jealous of the girl in front of her flaunting her tiny, trendy feet on the rail.  Suzy didn't make friends.  Girls found her odd, with a funny laugh, and unusual interest in dragons instead of boys.

The Symbol of Civilization

He was proud to represent his nation at the first reestablished Olympics. Standing at the starting blocks he admired the sea of humanity that gathered to watch. His event would start the games that demonstrated that mankind was bigger than his hate for himself; that mankind had indeed clawed its way out of the dark days of war and ashes and that civilization would conquer chaos. He had been born long after the Year of Fire and the desolation of the seas. His sport had been reconstructed from pictures and old stories as one of the first Olympic sports.

The starter pistol fired. Clutching the burlap at his waist, he leapt forward in giant bounds, focusing on the goal, ignoring the athletes that fell, legs tangled in their sacks. He jumped ahead knowing they envied his bounding strength and grace. As he hopped near the finish line, he thought to himself, “This race is in the bag!”

Posted for Flash Friday vol2-#9
---
Update: So honored to receive an honorable mention for this one!

Mother

Mother

The tiger was a statue. Only the very tip of his tail moved, tracing a complex loop in the air. The piercing yellow eyes fixed on the boy. He shot across the plain like bullet. The boy did not run, but fell to the ground kicking his feet into the chest of the beast. They tumbled together, rolling, violently, tossing dirt and grass into the air.

Clam Digging with Little Jon

Jon spent the morning in the hot sun digging clams on the island.  Maybe this trip would bring some happiness back.  Their life was a drab, joyless haze since the fever took their son.  He didn't fear the ghost stories about the island.  He came because of them.  Jon thought sorrowfully of digging with Little Jon on this same beach.

Excerpt from The Book

Posted for FlashFriday #50

Writing Prompt

The dark desert was still radiating heat from the day. The sand and rock still warmed through the soles of her shoes. The sun herself, not yet giving up defeat, lit the western hills like glowing embers. It was the time of day when the nocturnal creatures woke and began their search for food. Rustling of the brush and swishing sands were the only clue that these creatures had awakened.

Janet watched the rusted pickup truck that had carried her this far drive away, the roar of its gas engine making it obvious just how old it was. They were very concerned about leaving her out here all alone. “A little thing like you will be just a little snack for the coyotes”, the drivers wife scolded her.

“I’ll be fine. My friends are meeting me here within minutes. They might already be waiting for me”. Janet’s Spanish was good for conversation, but, she was definitely not fluent and she could tell by amused look on Mr. Driver’s face.

They left her here on what looked like a dirt road when the sun was up, but it now looked more like the middle of nowhere during late dusk. She waited until the red taillights had vanished in the distance and began jogging further down the road, the pack that Gray had left her bouncing roughly on her back.

“Another mile, and look for the crossroads.” She repeated Saul’s instructions silently to herself. By this time it was completely pitch black and the noises around her grew louder and more aggressive. The light from her headband LEDs was the only thing illuminating. The moon was taking it’s time getting high enough in the sky to light the path. She found the crossroad. Less of a road than the one she was on. She headed south, it was only another mile and she could see a speck of light in the distance already.

Makeup!

“Cut!” the director shouted.  “That was horrible!  Where are the writers?  When I said I wanted more non-verbal communication, I wasn't talking about some kind of circus mind reading act!  Fix it!”  he barked as two disheveled men ran up to him during his fit.

“Sir?” The taller man asked hopelessly before the director could storm completely off the sound stage.  “Are we still limiting the number of spoken words for the whole movie?”

“Yes!  No leeway.  The movie is Two Hundred Words not Two Hundred and Seventy Six Words!”  The director completed his tantrum and left.

The men looked at each other sighing deeply in unison.  They had spent endless nights trying to tell this sad drama in an hour long screenplay with this ridiculous constraint.  “You think he’ll count French words?” the shorter man asked rhetorically.

“We've used up all the words in the finale. How are we supposed to explain that Mark is John’s long lost brother and that he had amnesia after a war injury or he would have been home to help with their dying father?”  The taller man complained.

“Oh!  We need a head wound.”  The shorter man was suddenly excited.  “Makeup!!” He yelled.

-----------------------
Entry for Flash Firday #47
200 Words Exactly

Finding Enlightenment

“This is stupid.” he blurted out, opening his eyes.  The view up here was certainly life changing but after a week of shivering in his tent all night, and meditating all day, Dan was done with the whole “find enlightenment” thing.

“I bet those monks are laughing their butts off right now.”  He mused aloud, “Hey let’s send the dumb one up the mountain and see how long he stays.” Dan mimicked the monks accents poorly.  “Well, I fell for it!”  He stood frustrated, stretching.  He now knew the answers he wanted were not up here.  Meditating wouldn't bring his father back or fix his sister.  He sighed deeply and and froze hearing a new sound.

He had been utterly alone on his island in the clouds, just Dan and the grass that sighed wistfully in the wind.  Heart pumping at the sound of footsteps, he turned, half expecting to see an orange robed monk with a mischievous grin.  Instead he saw a dog jogging towards him gleefully.

Dan used his best doggie voice “Well hello there buddy.”  He rubbed its neck checking the collar for a name.  In the same voice he added “If you’re name is Enlightenment then somebody up there has a really sick sense of humor.”

------

Flash Friday 45 Entry

Word count: 210

Contraband

Story Prompt

In the end it was a good that the Hat Head Club drank our own water.  Teachers just ignored us when we complained about the taste of the fountain.  It was Monday and the HHC was meeting near the fountain.  All five of us wearing our crazy, custom knitted hats and watching the gym class let out, each kid taking turns gulping the water, making a face, and turning away.

Sarah gave us the new hats she had finished.  Mine was an owl!  She knew it was my favorite.  Jenny got the three eyed alien, Sasha the panda, and Mica now had spiky, yellow, yarn hair.  We giggled over our new prizes, fawning over Sarah’s gifts.  Then Mica’s face turned serious as she covertly handed us each a bottle of water like it was contraband.  We nodded solemnly reminded of the reason for our hats, our solidarity with Mica’s baldness.

Friday Flash Fiction Entry at: http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2013/10/04/flash-friday-44/comment-page-1/#comment-5130

---

Knock me over with a feather. There were so many excellent moving and entertaining entries, I am humbled that I should be picked. Thank you to the judge Beth Peterson and our host Rebekah Postupak. http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/winners/ben-miller/

Cool! An official interview and everything: http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2013/10/09/sixty-seconds-with-ben-miller/

Wrath

Wrath
358 Words
@NomDeBen
Posted to FlashFriday#41

Mac and I saw the whole thing.  We was out back by the woods and had just settled down to sleep.  We wasn’t under the trees cause we wanted to see the show.  His folks had bought him that fancy sleepin' bag last year, but I jes grabbed my blankets.