FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER 6-23-2017

FFftPProoster


 

“He’s the meanest, ugliest, rooster I’ve ever met.”

She looked over. “How many roosters have your met?”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed. She had to ask the single question guaranteed to make him feel a fool. “One.”

Raised eyebrow. Smug look. “His name is Roofus. He likes to get on the roof and crow until he wakes us.”

“Isn’t that what roosters do?”

Another look, the same as before.

“Guess I’d better head out. Work and stuff.”  He headed back to his truck, hand scrubbing his hair. One minute she seemed to like him; the next those moments.

“Wait!” she called, running to catch up.

He turned, braced for more rooster smugness.

“I’m…. sorry, I…” Her eyes traveled over the ramshackled farm. The house needed painting. The barns repairs. Mud driveway. Weeds. Sagging fences.

“I….didn’t want you to… think less of me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“The farm….” She waved an arm. “You’re so…. smart and…well-off… have a nice condo. I’m just… this country girl…. living here.”

He opened his arms. “Come here you. I love you. Where you live doesn’t matter.”

Held her as she silently cried.

God, he loved this girl, rooster and all!

 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 6-18-2017

This week’s photo prompt is provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose.

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

1. A prompt photo will be provided each Tuesday to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.

2. Linking for this challenge begins on Tuesday and runs to the following Monday evening.

3. Please credit photo to photographer.

4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.


“A real fucking castle,” Chris said, eyes rising to the topmost crenelations. “Who’d of thought.” They hadn’t been on top of the charts long enough for this sort of treatment to feel normal.

Bellhops grabbed their bags, hurrying into the entrance and up to the King Arthur Suite. When the band arrived, their bags had been unpacked, clothes stored away in ancient looking wardrobes.

“Make sure they didn’t snitch your underwear,” Jay called to Chris as he explored his room.

“There weren’t any females,” Dante put in, “and if any of those guys stole his underwear….. eeugh!”

“Har..har…funny,” came Chris’ reply, muffled by the expanse of the sitting room.

Jay stood, confused, staring at the inside of his wardrobe.

Chris and Dante appeared in his doorway, blonde against black. “Something wrong, grasshopper?”

“Wait….. yeah….” He glanced over at them, then back to the wardrobe.

Kerry joined them, shaggy brown hair falling over his forehead. “Something up?”

“Yeah,” Jay repeated. “Somebody stole my underwear!”

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner 6-18-2017

bookstore

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, June 14th. 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 Friday night, June 23rd, 2017.

FFftPP


 

“Never let it be said,” he said, “that I never set foot in a library.”

“Yeah, but in order to be in the library you have to put in more than just your toes.”

“I don’t like libraries.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Why not?”

“They scare me.”

“Really?”

He peered inside at the endless line of packed shelves. “All those smart people in there just…. just waiting.”

“Not everybody in there is uber smart.”

“Not them! The books.”

“The books are smart so you are scared of them?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m missing something here.”

“No, no, listen. It’s like all those smart little folk are just crouching there on the shelves. Waiting.” Voice dropping to a whisper.

“Waiting? For what?” She whispered back.

“For me to go by.”

“Right.”

“So they can whisper behind my back about how stupid I am.”

“You have a complex.” Her voice rose back to normal.

“They’ll suck me into library hell!”

“You have a serious complex.”

“Little teeth. Whispering little voices.” Shivering, he backed up, hurried away.

“Idiot.” But then she hesitated. Were hundreds of little eyes glaring at her from each and every shelves?

“Aahhh…maybe I’ll study tomorrow.”