The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, May 2nd. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)
This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Thursday night, May 10th, 2018.
Tommy knelt beside the drying frame, one hand touching the leathering skin. Soon, it would be ready, but for what? Nothing was made from real things any more, not in the white man’s world nor in the world he’d left behind when his parent’s moved them from the reservation to Bradford, MA.
His parents wanted him to be white. He wasn’t white; would never be white; heart longing for two hundred years ago when his people were great, when their land, their lives, were their own, not cast-off from government.
If nothing else, he could make a rabbit-fur hat for his little sister. She wouldn’t wear it to school, but she might at home. She wanted to be white. Have white friends, play white games, go to white schools.
He wanted to hunt buffalo across the plains, count coup, dance the Sun Dance, ride his pony like the wind, sleep under stars and sky.
Hands dangling between his knees, he hunkered by the frame for a long time, listening for far-off sounds he knew he would never hear.