100-Word Flash Friday Fictioneers


Another wonderful Friday morning…hope where you are, it is the same.  If you are a reader of this blog and normally like to read my thoughts, then don’t feel obligated to read this post, just delete…I won’t in any way be offended.  If you want to read a little fiction I wrote, then read on.

This weeks prompt was a beautiful picture of moss and a drip…and this is what I wrote:

Spelunking

“What the hell?  Were you trying to kill me?  My clothes are goners, I’m never going to get this dirt out.  Look at my knees, my arms, they’re all ripped open.  What the hell was the purpose of that?  I hate you.  I hate this place.”

I sat with Joe, quietly.  We just emerged from the cave, pretty cut up, our clothes pretty nasty, but it was good.  I knew the cave, done this for almost eight years now, taken kids into this cave to push them, it works so often.  Joe’s pretty “pushed” right now.  Just going to hang out with him before we head back to the juvi.

We hung on the rocks for a while. “Hey, Steve, check out that mini-waterfall…it’s kinda cool to watch that drip.”

“Yeah, Joe, it is pretty cool, isn’t it.”

Nature has a way of breaking through.

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100-Words Flash Friday Fictioneers


Had time this week to dabble with the Flash Friday Fictioneer photo from Madison Woods.  My writing went in a kind-of peculiar direction, but I continued to follow it and here it is:

Walk Across America

Hi, Mom.  It’s me.  I can’t believe today is the day.  It is hard to imagine that after eight months of training, today is the day.  Turning back?  You want to know if I’m going to bag it now?  Are you freaking crazy?  Am I scared?  Hell, yeah, wouldn’t you be?   Am I going to call?  Mom, I didn’t even freaking leave yet. I know, Mom, this is hard on you.  Please Mom, please, I am going to be ok.  I love you, Mom. I’ll call you soon. Bye.

 Here goes, through the tunnel, one footstep at a time, until I get home.  Why would she understand, she never left her Long Island neighborhood.