FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 3, 2017

Week of 01-03 through 01-09-2017

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FFfAW

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 stay within this limit.

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Grant-Sud. 

He lived on Indian Time, that time which meant one is never early and never late. At college, Indian Time caused a good bit of hassle, for him, his professors, and his friends. When he’d come back to the sandstone mesas of his childhood, time settled once more into the still dark depth of his being.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in the vastness of the buttes and mesas around him. Yes, he’d been tempted to stay, but no, he’d never regretted his choice. This was home and home meant Harmony.

The petroglyphs carved onto the faces of the rocks circled him like family, endlessly patient, all-knowing and wise. He felt close to his ancestors here. He felt understood.

Tomorrow he would drive into Shiprock in his Uncle’s old blue pick-up and start his new job. Working at the Clinic would be hard, but he wasn’t afraid of hard. He was afraid of no longer being Indian enough.

Home. Harmony.

The sound of drumming far in the distance.

Daily Post Prompt 1-21-2016 – Yawn!

( YAWN )

 

He stifled a yawn, third in a row, wishing he was anywhere but at the table listening to Professor Duncan drone on about the question “If you could choose to be raised by robots, dinosaurs, or aliens, who would you pick? Why?”

The question was college level certainly (not), but only in some form of creative writing class. He might also have been sold if such a question arose in philosophy or even, god forbid, religious studies. Astromony?Anthropology? But for a class in Astrophysics? Maybe because of the presence of robots?

Whatever. He stifled another yawn, forcing his eyes open. Duncan possessed the driest lecture style of anybody he’d ever heard. Behind him, Timothy started to snore.

He flipped pages in his text just in case there might be a suddenly lesson on child raising in the oddball family. Nope. Leaning back in his seat, his eyes gradually closed, unable to remain focus on the fascinating topic of robots and dinosaurs and aliens, oh my!

 

JSW Prompt 7-23-2015 Response

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“Well… don’t tell me how to live my unlife, then!  I’m perfectly capable of…. of…. unliving my… unlife!”

Justin raised an eyebrow.  “Well, that certainly told me… nothing.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“To a dead person?  Never!”  He crossed his heart, swore to die, making fun of me.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away.  “So…. hummmm… how exactly did I die?”  I couldn’t help but think he was making the biggest ass in the world of me, telling me I was dead.

I didn’t feel dead.  I didn’t look dead, at least not when I looked down at myself.  I looked….. pasty and thin and well, you know, like always.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course I want to know,”  I exploded.  “I wouldn’t of asked otherwise.”

He shrugged with a ‘you asked’ look and said, “JoAnn killed you.”

 “What?” I yelped.  “Where? When? Why?”

“Let me take those in chronological order. What – she killed you. When – two nights ago. Where – here. Why – how the hell would I know?

He sat down at the table.  I just stared at him, mouth open, unable to process what was being said; shook my head and sank down onto a chair.

Wow.  She’d killed me.

Wow.

Just when I managed to collect my thoughts to ask a question,

I jerked awake.

Dark.  Night.  Bed.

I collapsed back onto the bed, jerking my hands up before my face.  Pasty. Thin, Solid.  Me.

But…. who…. were Justin and JoAnn?

A knock made me jump.  Wiping hair from my face, I pushed up off the bed and stumbled to the door.  A tall, auburn-haired boy stood in the hallway, awkward grin on his face. Behind him stood a forty-something woman and a nine-year girl.

He thrust out his hand.

“I’m your new roommate, Justin.  This is my Mom and my sister.  JoAnn.”