Saturday, August 12, 2017

Don't Panic Picture Prompt

I have yet another flash fic for you. This one comes from This Is Not Hitchhiker's Guide's picture prompts. It doesn't have a title, because titles are hard and I'm lazy, but that's no reason to deprive you of a story served fresh from my brain. Enjoy!





It was that time of evening when the city hummed with the activity of day people finishing up their errands to hurry home, and night people were beginning to start their nighttime revelries. Cars clogged the streets and bodies swarmed the sidewalks. I readjusted the strap of the backpack across my shoulder and marched through the din, keeping my eyes cast down on the cracked concrete in front of me.
I didn’t notice Parker’s car until I had nearly run into it. I opened the passenger door and sat, settling the backpack on my lap and slamming the door closed again. When we didn’t move, I looked at Parker. He was giving me one of those fuddy-duddy looks, with his silvery eyebrows scrunched up above an unwavering stare. 
“What?” I asked. My voice came out high-pitched, more frantic than I meant it to sound. He knew as well as I did that now wasn’t the time to be stalling.  
“Buckle up.” 
I rolled my eyes but complied. As soon as I was secure, Parker put the car in drive and we took off down the street. 
Neither of us spoke as we made our way out of the city. The silence was suffocating. Parker had every reason to be disappointed in me, but I needed him to say something—anything—to let me know things would work out. He had always gone on about how careful Others had to be, but apparently I didn’t take his lessons to heart. One moment of carelessness on my part was all it took, and now we were on the road again, uprooted from a home we dared to hope was permanent. I didn’t even have time to pack properly. The Hunters would be at our apartments by now, ransacking them for any hint of where we’d fled to. 
I kept glancing at him, hoping to ferret out his thoughts from the expression he wore. It was useless; aside from a slight frown, his face was just as neutral as it would be if this was any other drive. 
Parker must have noticed me staring, because he reached over and gave me a reassuring pat on the knee. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, kiddo,” he said. “We’ve done this dance before. We’ll be alright.”  
They were simple words, but they were all I needed. 
I twisted around in the seat and stared out the back window, drinking in the sight of the retreating city. The dusky sky was draped in a blanket of grey-violet clouds, and a mosaic of lights adorned the towers of the skyline. I knew it would be the last time I’d ever see this city, and I wanted to remember every precious detail.


This flash fic first appeared on Things a Yeti Wouldn't Eat.

Change

Today I've got another 100 word challenge flash fic for you. The word this time is "change," and I took inspiration from a big (albeit superficial) change I made a few years ago: the first time I shaved my head. It was a very interesting—and positive—experience.

I hope you like the drabble it inspired.

It took 20 minutes.
20 minutes she’d been standing there, a fistful of hair in one hand, a pair of scissors in the other, their gaping blades poised an inch above her scalp.
A deep breath. A Cut. The sound of metal shearing through every hair.
A lock of tresses dropped into the sink, severed from its host. The rest followed easily, as each cut came with more confidence.
Then came the razor, gliding over white, sensitive skin that hadn’t felt the air in a lifetime. She stood before the mirror, bald and bold. It was change.
It was liberating.



This flash fic first appeared on Things a Yeti Wouldn't Eat.

Peculiar

Yesterday I stumbled upon something I couldn’t resist —the 100 word challenge.  The aim is to write something exactly 100 words long, and which has been inspired by a particular word. As the title implies, that word is “peculiar.”

These 100 words were inspired by the most peculiar person I know. (You know who you are, you little weirdo!)

She had a mane of wild hair littered with bits of leaves and twigs, and bare feet splattered with mud. Her eyes were wide, ecstatic, and she had a smile to match. I would have thought her a forest sprite if not for her jeans and T-shirt.
She reached out with a single finger and smeared a dab of sap on my nose. 
Apparently delighted at my confusion, she threw her head back and cackled. She disappeared back into the forest, leaving nothing behind but the stickiness on my nose and the sound of her mirth lingering among the leaves.



This flash fic was first posted on Things a Yeti Wouldn't Eat.