FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER 8-26-2017

makesbike

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The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Thursday morning, August 24th. 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, August 31st, 2017.


Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner


 

“It’s there again!” he said, peering out beyond the window shade.

“What?”

“The green bicycle.” Whispered.

“Oh for God’s sake, Sam, grow up.”

“But it’s a spy bike,” he assured his mother. “Really.”

“It’s a bike, nothing more.”  She swished back into the kitchen.

“It’s not,” he whispered, still watching.

A window above the bike opened and a boy dropped to the sidewalk. He jumped on the bike and pedaled quickly away.

Sam ran to the door. He was just about to step outside, when his mother called.

“Sam! Come back and finish your supper!”

“But MOMMMMM!”

“No!”

Sulking, he slunk back to the table. “Spies don’t eat peas.”

“Of course they do, Sam. That’s what makes them so sneaky!”

 

 

 

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Sunday Photo Fiction 8-16-2017

208 08 August 13th 2017

 

“Wow! Look at that!” Arny exclaimed, pointing at the painting on the wall.

“A phone booth. English.”

“No, I meant Dr. Who.”

“Who?” Mike asked. “What’s a Doctor have to do with it?”

“Dr. Who!”

“It’s a police call box. 1928ish. Had nothing to do with any Doctor.”

“NO! Dr. Who! The British show!”

“Right. A British Call Box. I don’t think they have them any more. No need really,” Mike shrugged. “Phones and all.”

Arny rolled his eyes. “It’s Tardis, Dr Who’s time machine.”

“The police used them. Not Doctors.”

“For crying out loud!” Arny cried. “Dr. Who. A British TV show! He travels through space and time in a call box named Tardis.”

Mike sighed, shook his head. “You and your funny imagination.”

Arny threw up his hands. “Hopeless!”  He walked away.

“Hey,” Mike called, hurrying after him. “Speaking of TV shows….. did you hear about that sci-fi show where some weird Timelord roams the Universe?”

Arny stopped, turned slowly.  “No,” he said flatly, “never heard of that one.”

Paused. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

 

 

 

 

Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner 8-12-2017

bus

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Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner


She watched the red-haired boy from the back of the bus, excited to be on the way to Hogwarts with Ron Weasley.

Paul McCartney had written “Eleanor Rigby” for her. They’d had a torrid affair, but, devastated when Linda died, he’d pulled away.

She’d tried an affair with Tom Cruise, but he was too short.

Harrison Ford, but he was too old.

Hamlet, but really, who needed that?

So, she’d started an affair with Chris Crenshaw, rock-n-roll and sex god all wrapped in one. They were going to get married as soon as he dumped the latest ‘it’ girl on his arm.

She hated ‘it’ girls. So pretty. So stupid. So vapid.

The bus stopped and Ron-who-wasn’t-Ron disembarked. She like Harry better, anyway,

At the next stop, she stepped into the drizzle, heading to H&H Accounting.

“Morning,” the first H said as she walked in.

The second H called, “I need these figures yesterday!”

She sat down to enter them into the computer.

“I’m going to lunch with Chris, today,” she told them.  “I have to leave by eleven.”

She never even saw the bus coming.

Word Of The Day 6-11-2017

Sciomancy

sci·o·man·cy \ˈsīəˌman(t)sē\
Popularity: Bottom 30% of words

Definition

plural -es

  1. :  divination by consulting the shades of the dead (ghosts) and/or shadows

sciomancer, noun
sciomantic, adjective


Example


Did You Know?

There are lots of ways to predict the future. Sciomancy is one of the unique methods in the world of fortune telling. The techniques for Sciomancy are extremely unusual because the diviner will need to communicate or seek help from the spirits of the dead or ghost in order to complete his/her prediction.

Sciomancy is not advisable to everyone especially if the client has a weak tolerance to the dead spirits. In short only few people with strong heart can able to try this type of divination. Many people think that Sciomancy is the scariest and weirdest way for divination. But regardless of this terrifying method, there are still people who are willing to try this uncommon type of divination. People have their own reason about trying Sciomancy. Some people want to explore the methods of Sciomancy to feed their curiosity while other people want to try the power or shadow of the ghosts if it is really helpful and effective to their own personal purposes.

The diviner will use the shadows of death in order to interpret and foreshadow the future of a certain person or client. The client can also ask question about something to the diviner and then the diviner will record or read the images or symbols of the shadows so he/she can relay the message or response of the ghosts to the particular question.


Origin

Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, April 19th. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner

hiker

 

All his life, he’d felt awkward in himself, so unlike his family. Straight hair versus curly. Dark skin versus light. Brown eyes versus blue. Plod-along sameness against the wild need to roam free.

He’d roamed for over a year, following a silent call. Why was he different? Who was he? Was he adopted? Found? Just a throw-back to some earlier, unknown, ancestor?

His gaze now never left the ocean. Somehow this was it. Home. Taking a little-used trail through the rocks and scrub, he stepped onto the sand. On the doorstep.

Tossing his pack down, kicking off his boots, he moved towards the surf, belonging sweeping through him as the waves lapped around his feet. He waded further. Further. Water past his hips, armpits.

I’m coming, he cried silently, I’m coming.

Water rose over shoulders, chin, to his top lip. He paused, uncertain, then continued. The water rose over his head. Filled with fear, he struggled for the surface, no longer knowing what was up. What down. Fought to hold his breath, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t last. Couldn’t …….

A moment later, he drew in a lungful of oxygen, flipped his tail and headed out to the open sea.

Home.