Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.his week’s photo prompt is provided by Ted Strutz. Thank you Ted for our photo prompt! Please click lil froggy for other stories.
It had been a long afternoon and we’d just missed the previous ferry. The kid was wired for a nap that hadn’t happened. I needed a glass of wine.
Me: If you sit still for just a second I’ll go and get you a cotton candy.
Child: Coke, too?
It was some time later. I trudged back to our car with cotton candy and soda.
Me: They only had Pepsi.
Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan. Thank you Yinglan! Please click lil froggy for other stories.
Here is the photo and my entry for this week.
An Afternoon After School
I was a young girl then.
Each day, after school, I walked to my father’s shoe store and sat in the storage room and did my homework. I dreamed about my future.
The day Father received the red shoes, she appeared. My brothers rushed to serve her and compliment her. All the colors in the room were muted. Even her lovely silk dress and the noise of time passing were muted.
“I will take these red shoes,” the lady said. She kicked up her heel and smiled down at my younger brother.
He offered to box and bag them for her.
“Thank you, but no,” she said. “I want to wear them now. You can send these old shoes to me later.”
I think her lips were red, too. Her skin was like ivory. Her voice soft and sweet – just as I imagined mine would be one day.
Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to PJ for hosting our gathering and to Yarnspinner for our photograph. Please click lil froggy for other stories.
Here is the photo and my entry for this week. It came as a poem again…
I look back on it all as though that life
by the frailest of yarns
meant something in the long run
the safest I ever felt
was in your arms
nestled deep under the downy comforts
just before sleep
when you told me stories
about love winning
surrounded our lives.
Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to PJ for hosting our gathering and to our mysterious photographer. Please click lil froggy for other stories.
Here is the photo and my entry for this week:
We sit here again. Each in a downy winged back chair. Just in front of the french windows. Outside lies the village. It is neither large nor small. A facade of walls behind which private moments, such as these, unfold. The scent of kumquat blossoms drifts into the room.
You: Tell me the story behind your eyes just now.
Me: Mysteries used to be exciting.
It is the noon hour. A bright sun struggles its way into the alley’s curves and blind spots.
You: Was that recently?
Me: Do you mean the mysterious or the exciting?
Me: Oh! That was very long ago.
Arise children of the fatherland
The day of glory has arrived
Against us tyranny’s
Bloody standard is raised
Listen to the sound in the fields
The howling of these fearsome soldiers
They are coming into our midst
To cut the throats of your sons and consorts
To arms citizens Form your battalions
Let impure blood
Water our furrows
What do they want this horde of slaves
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?
For whom these vile chains
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What methods must be taken?
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!
What! These foreign cohorts!
They would make laws in our courts!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would cut down our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brow would yield under the yoke
The vile despots would have themselves be
The masters of destiny
Tremble, tyrants and traitors
The shame of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will receive their just reward
Against you we are all soldiers
If they fall, our young heros
France will bear new ones
Ready to join the fight against you
Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors
Bear or hold back your blows
Spare these sad victims
That they regret taking up arms against us
But not these bloody despots
These accomplices of Bouillé
All these tigers who pitilessly
Ripped out their mothers’ wombs
We too shall enlist
When our elders’ time has come
To add to the list of deeds
Inscribed upon their tombs
We are much less jealous of surviving them
Than of sharing their coffins
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or joining them
Drive on sacred patriotism
Support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished liberty
Join the struggle with your defenders
Under our flags, let victory
Hurry to your manly tone
So that in death your enemies
See your triumph and our glory!