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. So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr!
Please follow lil froggy for more stories:)
How Not To Crochet The Drop Stitch
I stood with my brother at the airport’s security gate. His dark brown eyes were locked onto my own. My flight would be loading soon. A very few moments loomed before us.
“I got here as soon as I received your text,” my brother said. “Thank God you are still here!” He embraced me.
“Even I don’t have wings,” I replied. “Must wait, as others, for flight.”
“We don’t know this man you are flying to be with,” said my brother.
“He doesn’t know you either.”
My brother shook his head. He seemed sad. “I’ve just always had this image of you writing poetry and crocheting christening gowns.”
“But I don’t know how to crochet!” I drew my eyes into thin lines and stared my brother down.
“That’s not the point,” he said.
“Oh. Okay. I don’t want to learn how to crochet.”
“You’ll be sorry for this!” my brother shouted as I made my way to the ticket counter.
“But I don’t want to learn how to crochet!” I called back to him.
Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. Our photo prompt is from Enisa. Thank you Enisa for our photo prompt!
Please follow little froggy for more stories.
Here is the photograph and my story:
When Rents Went Up
My younger brother was born from an apple seed in my mother’s eye. Not my baby brother. The brother before him. And, I accepted that encased in some sort of morose haze that hung about my life for six decades.
He was the sort of person artists sculpted famous busts of. Busts that stood special guard in many elitist offices spawning an unwated gentrification into our neighborhoods.
He was everything I was against, but he was the brother I loved.
“Is there some reason you’re winking here?” I asked him.
We were observing the latest bust to his homage at a current exhibit opening in town.
“Allergies,” he said in the midst of a sneeze.
Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by any1mark66. Thank you Mark! Please follow little froggy for more stories.
Here is the photo and my story:
Around the time my brother was into coding everything, a phase during one late Fall that didn’t last long, I had a slumber party. I, and most of the girls attending, had recently celebrated ‘Sweet Sixteen”. We were primed for almost anything life had to offer, and often went looking for offers.
This night, though, inside the large camping tent my dad had pitched for us in our backyard, something magical was about to happen.
I’d snatched a cryptic drawing from my brother’s room. (I mean, he reads my diary and I snatch his cryptic drawings. OK?) The group of us, encased in the golden glow of some techy lantern dad had put in the tent, reflected quite earnestly upon the drawing.
“This could be a special code,” someone said.
And we all agreed it could be just that, but we never did agree upon the actual code.
Just now reading that Pete Fountain has died and had a proper Jazz Funeral down the streets of the New Orleans French Quarter. Swoon on now y’all. Wish I’d have been there for the march…
My brother plays the clarinet – ever since our high school band….and still when he’s blue.
Always a soft spot in my life…those two.
Here is my submission for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. She found the photo on Pixabay.
Join the fun! Click the lil froggy for more stories or to add your own.
“You can’t be serious,” my brother said.
We were at the Cafe Du Monde, having a coffee and sharing an order of beignets. I’d just told him I was going to marry Buck. “Oh but I am serious,” I replied. “It will be a small ceremony at City Hall.”
“Not even a Catholic ceremony, Sissy?” My brother looked at me aghast. He reached into his shirt pocket for one of his healthier light cigarettes and eyed me sternly. “You did say he was an atheist, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and a Republican.”
“Oh my good God, Sissy!”
“Can’t we just pretend those parts don’t matter?” I asked. I was licking powdered sugar from my finger tips. I was just about to say something, of great importance, when Buck came by in an old blue pick-up and honked his horn.
I stood up and walked over to my brother and gave him a little peck on his cheek. “I probably should go now,” I said before I sashayed away.
I’m still under the weather. Thought I was better but…this doesn’t mean I’m not having chocolate iced chocolate birthday cake tonight. It’s there, on the table, in a tiny pink box, waiting for me. Then, I get this – from my brother…
Warning: If you are receiving this message on March 16 then you may be having a birthday. Do not have a birthday if you are not actually one year older. Do not take more than the prescribed daily dose of happy birthdays. While having a birthday, excitability or drowsiness may occur. You may consume numerous alcoholic drinks while having a birthday, but avoid driving a vehicle or operating heavy machinery. Do not have a birthday for more than 24 hours as this may cause a dangerous birthday overdose, result in symptoms of birthday withdrawal, require immediate medical intervention, or have an adverse effect on your credit rating.
Today’s prompt is to do with some random song and this is my attempt. Many more can be found at http://neverendingstorydepository.wordpress.com/
Have a a visit and a nice Sunday evening reading experience.