It was just my typical Friday night, alone, people watching at my local tavern. The bar was more crowded than usual, but that just added to my viewing pleasure. I glanced toward the door as it opened and I saw her enter. A beautiful brunette with smoldering eyes and a confident walk. She came in, slowly looking to her right and left, and I could tell she was sizing up the crowd. She was looking very sexy and it was obvious that she spent quite some time preparing for her Friday night. I imagined her thinking, how am I going to get paid for all my efforts tonight. Can’t put this kind of work into getting ready and not get something out of it. Maybe some free drinks, maybe a great kiss, maybe more, who knows. The night was young and she looked ready for action.
She hadn’t noticed me, which was not unusual as I tend to meld into the scenery. That was alright with me as I generally preferred watching the game and not playing it. I wondered who she would choose? Would she approach him? Or would she attract her prey? These questions were running through my head, when she suddenly looked right at me. Our eyes locked and time froze. The stare lasted forever but somehow didn’t feel uncomfortable. She walked directly over to me, never looking away, holding the mesmerizing gaze between us.
“Hi. Wanna buy me a drink?”
“Sure.”
Oh, it’s on.
Flash Fiction as always provided by the kind people over at www.diminishedfifth.blogspot.com those people of course being one mister grimace.
Rules are as always: 250 words
Theme: compensation
Phrase for the week: came in slowly
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Saturday, March 26, 2005
You and Me
You are my shield, my comfort,
but not my love.
Without you there is great sadness,
with you the sadness is less.
You push the loneliness and pain of the dark away,
but in my heart always it remains.
You are there for me, as I am for you,
but we are not the right ones.
You are my lover,
but you are not.
You take and I take,
because neither can give.
I use you and you use me,
is this right or wrong?
I do not know,
do you?
Can anybody really say they do not use,
not even in the slightest way?
You are safe, and I am safe,
we will end the way we began,
Friends.
but not my love.
Without you there is great sadness,
with you the sadness is less.
You push the loneliness and pain of the dark away,
but in my heart always it remains.
You are there for me, as I am for you,
but we are not the right ones.
You are my lover,
but you are not.
You take and I take,
because neither can give.
I use you and you use me,
is this right or wrong?
I do not know,
do you?
Can anybody really say they do not use,
not even in the slightest way?
You are safe, and I am safe,
we will end the way we began,
Friends.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
A Conversation Before History - Flash Fiction #5
The two astronauts make their way to the flight simulator. It is just another day of training, preparing for the day that they might get their chance to make history. Today, the power of time is beginning to wear on the normal NASA optimism.
The journey to fulfill the dream of a nation was coming to an end. In eight months time, these two men would walk on the moon. They would be the final proof that man’s ingenuity and desire was powerful enough to make any dream a reality.
This week's Flash Fiction challenge:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The theme is: power
3. The time is: 1968
4. Within the story, you must use this text: all due respect.
Make sure to link back to Diminished Fifth's site.
"You know Neil, Kennedy promised in ‘62 that we would do it before the end of the decade."
"Yeah, so what is your point Buzz?"
"Well it is 1968 and so far we haven’t done anything except put a man in orbit. Hell, we did that in ‘61. We are no closer to the moon than we were seven years ago."
"Sure we are. Next month we will send Apollo 8 to the moon and back."
"You know as well as I do that if anything else goes wrong, we won’t make it to the moon on time. Maybe we just don’t have the power to send a man to the moon. With all due respect, what was Kennedy thinking?"
"Maybe he was thinking that we need to do get there before those commie Russians do. I don’t know, but I am glad he decided this was the American priority, aren’t you?"
"Yeah, what a ride, huh."
The journey to fulfill the dream of a nation was coming to an end. In eight months time, these two men would walk on the moon. They would be the final proof that man’s ingenuity and desire was powerful enough to make any dream a reality.
This week's Flash Fiction challenge:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The theme is: power
3. The time is: 1968
4. Within the story, you must use this text: all due respect.
Make sure to link back to Diminished Fifth's site.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
A Summer's Day - FF #4 Again
I read a few others and noticed how similar the stories are. I think the theme is lending to similar stories. I decided to write one from a different point of view.
It is a beautiful summer day in this sleepy little American town. I am on my way to meet my family for lunch at the diner. All the kids on the street are all singing along with that new "Great Balls of Fire" song. Man I hate this new rock 'n' roll. The streets are extra busy today. I see my friend Jack walking toward me.
My family and I have lived here for almost two years. Everything seems normal. You would never know that we are just a mere 30 miles outside Moscow. This is a KGB training ground. We live here just as Americans do. Preparing for the day we will be relocated to a real American town. That day is just around the corner. We have received word that we are moving to America in one month. They are relocating us to Moscow. Moscow, Idaho. The irony does not escape me. I hope we are ready. Ready to fulfill our promise and our duty to Mother Russia. I am sure we will be ready when the time comes.
For now, I am just ready for lunch.
This week's challenge:
1) If you do this week's challenge, be sure to let me know, please.
2) Also, link back to Diminished Fifth... if nothing else, he'll see
that people are following that link to his site, and will investigate.
Rules
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The setting is: Moscow, USSR
3. The year is: 1958.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: for the sake.
If you prefer, you can set it in Moscow, Idaho.
It is a beautiful summer day in this sleepy little American town. I am on my way to meet my family for lunch at the diner. All the kids on the street are all singing along with that new "Great Balls of Fire" song. Man I hate this new rock 'n' roll. The streets are extra busy today. I see my friend Jack walking toward me.
"Hey Jack, did you watch that game last night?"
"I sure did, man wasn’t that a great fourth quarter?"
"It sure was, gotto go. Meeting Jane and the kids for lunch."
"Alright, BBQ this weekend?"
"You bet, but for the sake of little Billy, no hot dogs this time. He was sick for a week."
"You got it."
My family and I have lived here for almost two years. Everything seems normal. You would never know that we are just a mere 30 miles outside Moscow. This is a KGB training ground. We live here just as Americans do. Preparing for the day we will be relocated to a real American town. That day is just around the corner. We have received word that we are moving to America in one month. They are relocating us to Moscow. Moscow, Idaho. The irony does not escape me. I hope we are ready. Ready to fulfill our promise and our duty to Mother Russia. I am sure we will be ready when the time comes.
For now, I am just ready for lunch.
This week's challenge:
1) If you do this week's challenge, be sure to let me know, please.
2) Also, link back to Diminished Fifth... if nothing else, he'll see
that people are following that link to his site, and will investigate.
Rules
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The setting is: Moscow, USSR
3. The year is: 1958.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: for the sake.
If you prefer, you can set it in Moscow, Idaho.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
The Cold War Begins - FF #4
It had been 13 years since the war ended. Three years since he was assigned deep cover in Moscow. He had imagined this day since he was first approached by the CIA in college. His first assignment. Now, he found himself in an empty building with a rifle and a picture of a man. An enemy of the United States.
During his training, he had considered the fact that he would have to kill someone. He just didn’t expect it to be on his first mission. Don’t think. Just let the training take over.
It was almost time. He watched the doorway through the scope. The door opened and the man appeared. He walked toward his car. Just squeeze the trigger. There was a muffled sound in the room and almost instantly the man’s head exploded. It had all seemed a little less graphic during training.
Get up. Leave the gun. It was a Russian model and could not be traced back to the CIA. Walk out the back door and onto the street, calmly. He walked down the street looking like all the other Russians on their way to work.
Well, he was in the war now. Spy. Patriot. Murderer. Langley had not prepared him for this rush of emotions. Regret. Sorrow. Exhilaration. They also could not prepare him to live with the image that was now permanently burned into his mind. The image of a man he had just murdered. Murdered for the sake of his country.
This week's challenge:
1) If you do this week's challenge, be sure to let me know, please.
2) Also, link back to Diminished Fifth. If nothing else, he'll see that people are following that link to his site, and will investigate.
Rules
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The setting is: Moscow, USSR
3. The year is: 1958.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: for the sake.
If you prefer, you can set it in Moscow, Idaho.
During his training, he had considered the fact that he would have to kill someone. He just didn’t expect it to be on his first mission. Don’t think. Just let the training take over.
It was almost time. He watched the doorway through the scope. The door opened and the man appeared. He walked toward his car. Just squeeze the trigger. There was a muffled sound in the room and almost instantly the man’s head exploded. It had all seemed a little less graphic during training.
Get up. Leave the gun. It was a Russian model and could not be traced back to the CIA. Walk out the back door and onto the street, calmly. He walked down the street looking like all the other Russians on their way to work.
Well, he was in the war now. Spy. Patriot. Murderer. Langley had not prepared him for this rush of emotions. Regret. Sorrow. Exhilaration. They also could not prepare him to live with the image that was now permanently burned into his mind. The image of a man he had just murdered. Murdered for the sake of his country.
This week's challenge:
1) If you do this week's challenge, be sure to let me know, please.
2) Also, link back to Diminished Fifth. If nothing else, he'll see that people are following that link to his site, and will investigate.
Rules
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The setting is: Moscow, USSR
3. The year is: 1958.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: for the sake.
If you prefer, you can set it in Moscow, Idaho.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
The Getaway - FF #3
Stop running. Try to look casual. I am pretty sure I lost the two men who seem determined to kill me. Crash. The store front window shatters next to me. Damn. Didn't hear a shot, they must be using silencers. Who are these guys and why do they want me dead? Back at a full sprint. I need a crowded place. They won't fire in a crowded place.
I run into the Street Mall. Try to blend in. Slow your breathing. How many of them are there. Must be at least three. I have to slip out of here. Get away. Blood spatters on the window of the Hallmark store. It's the lady next to me. Dead. People around me panicking. Running. Don't fall. Keep going. How did they find me so fast?
Men at all the exits? I can't take that chance. Find an alternate exit. The maintenance hallway. I have to find out who wants me dead. That is not going to happen if I don't get out of here in a hurry. Through the door. Down the hallway. Emergency exit, fuck the alarm. I'm back on the street. Jump in the nearest cab.
The cab speeds away and through the back window I can see two men exiting the emergency door. Who are they? And who wants me dead? I need to find out, before they find me again.
Above is my entry for this week's Flash Fiction Challenge:
The rules were as follows:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. Must take place in a mall.
3. Within the story, you must use this text: not going to happen.
Make sure you read Kelbel's entry as well.
I run into the Street Mall. Try to blend in. Slow your breathing. How many of them are there. Must be at least three. I have to slip out of here. Get away. Blood spatters on the window of the Hallmark store. It's the lady next to me. Dead. People around me panicking. Running. Don't fall. Keep going. How did they find me so fast?
Men at all the exits? I can't take that chance. Find an alternate exit. The maintenance hallway. I have to find out who wants me dead. That is not going to happen if I don't get out of here in a hurry. Through the door. Down the hallway. Emergency exit, fuck the alarm. I'm back on the street. Jump in the nearest cab.
"Get me the hell out of here!"
"Where to mister?"
"I don't care just move it!"
The cab speeds away and through the back window I can see two men exiting the emergency door. Who are they? And who wants me dead? I need to find out, before they find me again.
Above is my entry for this week's Flash Fiction Challenge:
The rules were as follows:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. Must take place in a mall.
3. Within the story, you must use this text: not going to happen.
Make sure you read Kelbel's entry as well.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Turning 40 - FF #2
Next week he was turning 40. He lay there trying to ease the pain, wondering how he got here. His present life sure did not reflect any of the visions he had imagined 10 years earlier. He remembered turning 30 in 1995 and being relieved. That is when people make all their money, in their 30’s, right? The 20’s were for finding yourself and partying. The 30’s were for settling down and making a boatload of cash.
The memory of his 30th birthday was still fresh in his mind. The optimism and sheer excitement that the next decade held. The timing was perfect. Business was great and the market was booming. How could anything go wrong? He remembered thinking that he might even retire at the age of 45. Surely he would have made enough money by then to live the rest of his life in comfort.
“Lights out!”
A sudden crash back to reality. Another day in hell over and now he had to look forward to another night of regret. If he had just called a cab that night instead of getting behind the wheel, maybe he might have lived that life he envisioned in 1995. Instead, not only does he get to spend his nights in a small room with a guy they call G-Dog, but someone’s wife and daughter doesn’t get to have any more days and nights. A regret he will always have, in or out of prison.
Above is my entry for this week's Flash Fiction Challenge: diminishedfifth.
The rules were as follows:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The theme is: memory.
3. The year is: 1995.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: ease the pain.
The memory of his 30th birthday was still fresh in his mind. The optimism and sheer excitement that the next decade held. The timing was perfect. Business was great and the market was booming. How could anything go wrong? He remembered thinking that he might even retire at the age of 45. Surely he would have made enough money by then to live the rest of his life in comfort.
“Lights out!”
A sudden crash back to reality. Another day in hell over and now he had to look forward to another night of regret. If he had just called a cab that night instead of getting behind the wheel, maybe he might have lived that life he envisioned in 1995. Instead, not only does he get to spend his nights in a small room with a guy they call G-Dog, but someone’s wife and daughter doesn’t get to have any more days and nights. A regret he will always have, in or out of prison.
Above is my entry for this week's Flash Fiction Challenge: diminishedfifth.
The rules were as follows:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The theme is: memory.
3. The year is: 1995.
4. Within the story, you must use this text: ease the pain.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Courage - FF #1
I stood by the comic book rack in the liquor store near school looking for the latest X-Men issue. It must be here. It was Friday and the new issues are always here on Friday. There it is. I found it. The last copy. Why had they gone so fast this week? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t care because I had found a copy.
I stood there flipping through the pages when I heard it. The sound of the bell over the door announcing that someone was coming into the store. I looked up and saw him, Logan Dingleberry. At least that is what I like to call him. Well, not out loud. He has picked on me since the third grade. Not today. I wasn't going to take it. Today was the day I was going to find the courage to stand up to Logan Dingleberry.
“What you reading, dork? He said as he walked toward me.
“X-Men,” you giant pile of dog excrement, I replied.
“Give me that.” he said as he snatched it from my hands. "That's what I came here for."
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Three years of his crap was too much. He continued to talk, but I didn’t hear him. I was too busy searching for that illusive courage I needed to end this reign of terror. Suddenly, in that moment, I realized that the courage I yearned for, was nowhere to be found. Oh well, I guess the Dingleberry, wins again. Maybe there is a copy left at the 7-11 by my house.
I saw this over at bluemama's place and decided to try it. Creative writing has never been my forte, but this seemed like fun. Write a short story using the following parameters.
FLASH FICTION CHALLENGE #1:
The setting: A convenience store.
Length: 250 words or less.
In your story, you must include the following bit of text: nowhere to be found.
I stood there flipping through the pages when I heard it. The sound of the bell over the door announcing that someone was coming into the store. I looked up and saw him, Logan Dingleberry. At least that is what I like to call him. Well, not out loud. He has picked on me since the third grade. Not today. I wasn't going to take it. Today was the day I was going to find the courage to stand up to Logan Dingleberry.
“What you reading, dork? He said as he walked toward me.
“X-Men,” you giant pile of dog excrement, I replied.
“Give me that.” he said as he snatched it from my hands. "That's what I came here for."
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Three years of his crap was too much. He continued to talk, but I didn’t hear him. I was too busy searching for that illusive courage I needed to end this reign of terror. Suddenly, in that moment, I realized that the courage I yearned for, was nowhere to be found. Oh well, I guess the Dingleberry, wins again. Maybe there is a copy left at the 7-11 by my house.
I saw this over at bluemama's place and decided to try it. Creative writing has never been my forte, but this seemed like fun. Write a short story using the following parameters.
FLASH FICTION CHALLENGE #1:
The setting: A convenience store.
Length: 250 words or less.
In your story, you must include the following bit of text: nowhere to be found.
Flash Fiction #1 - By Bran
I did not write this, but Bran left this in the comments of my original story and it was so good, that I had to save it for all eternity.
I found myself drunk and having sex in the 7-11 bathroom and I realized that at that very moment pride and self respect were no where to be found. As I stood there, faking enjoyment of semipublic fornication with a stranger, my thoughts took me to a higher elevation of thinking.
“Why is there one tile in the ceiling that does not match?” The tile was not completely off; it was a slightly darker shade of white than the others. If I ever get enough motivation up to write a political novel, I think it will be about the presence of these mismatched but still white ceiling tiles. The classic theme of the white people holding the black people down in this model gas station society; where sex and slurpies and 22oz beer can be sold and purchased. Not that I was getting paid for the sex I was having, but prostitution always makes for a better political novel.
There is a knock on the door followed by a melody of words in a harsh language that I did not understand.
Fuck. No wait. Stop Fucking. Stop drinking. Stop ending up in places like 7-11 bathrooms thinking about writing a book and go home and write the damn book.
“Stop”
“I almost done” the stranger says.
“Almost done is close enough, closer than you thought you were going to get tonight right?” I say as I back away from him and start out the door.
As I fake confidence and stumble out into my new empowerment, I notice the white cashier.
I found myself drunk and having sex in the 7-11 bathroom and I realized that at that very moment pride and self respect were no where to be found. As I stood there, faking enjoyment of semipublic fornication with a stranger, my thoughts took me to a higher elevation of thinking.
“Why is there one tile in the ceiling that does not match?” The tile was not completely off; it was a slightly darker shade of white than the others. If I ever get enough motivation up to write a political novel, I think it will be about the presence of these mismatched but still white ceiling tiles. The classic theme of the white people holding the black people down in this model gas station society; where sex and slurpies and 22oz beer can be sold and purchased. Not that I was getting paid for the sex I was having, but prostitution always makes for a better political novel.
There is a knock on the door followed by a melody of words in a harsh language that I did not understand.
Fuck. No wait. Stop Fucking. Stop drinking. Stop ending up in places like 7-11 bathrooms thinking about writing a book and go home and write the damn book.
“Stop”
“I almost done” the stranger says.
“Almost done is close enough, closer than you thought you were going to get tonight right?” I say as I back away from him and start out the door.
As I fake confidence and stumble out into my new empowerment, I notice the white cashier.
Flash Fiction #1 - That Girl
I did not write this, That Girl did. She left it in the comments of my original story. It was so good I decided to post it so I could keep it for all eternity.
I had a gyro for lunch today and ran out of gum. Therefore I took a cab to the 7-11 in Hampden because I didn't want to lose my parking spot at work.
Once at 7-11, I looked for the Dentyne Ice, but I was distracted by the Frappuccino in the corner of my eye. I walked over to the case to get my extra large mocha Frapuccino bottle, turned around and decided I was still hungry. Monterey chicken taquito will do the trick. Portable, non-messy-fake-mexican-for-a-dollar. Good deal.
As I approach the counter, spot the Dentyne ice, lay all of these cravings out on display with the pride that I'm getting exactly what I need to be happy, I find that I have forgotten my debit card. No where to be found.
SHIT.
I had to save my cash for the waiting cab and I really needed the gum, so I put back the Frapuccino, said "nevermind" on the taquito (which was heart wrenching) and counted out all of the pennies in the "spare a penny" cup to get my gum.
Ha! The minty taste of giving something up in order to get what you want!
I had a gyro for lunch today and ran out of gum. Therefore I took a cab to the 7-11 in Hampden because I didn't want to lose my parking spot at work.
Once at 7-11, I looked for the Dentyne Ice, but I was distracted by the Frappuccino in the corner of my eye. I walked over to the case to get my extra large mocha Frapuccino bottle, turned around and decided I was still hungry. Monterey chicken taquito will do the trick. Portable, non-messy-fake-mexican-for-a-dollar. Good deal.
As I approach the counter, spot the Dentyne ice, lay all of these cravings out on display with the pride that I'm getting exactly what I need to be happy, I find that I have forgotten my debit card. No where to be found.
SHIT.
I had to save my cash for the waiting cab and I really needed the gum, so I put back the Frapuccino, said "nevermind" on the taquito (which was heart wrenching) and counted out all of the pennies in the "spare a penny" cup to get my gum.
Ha! The minty taste of giving something up in order to get what you want!
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