Part Three of my September Flash Fiction! The prompts can be found here. Please note that these are posted daily on my Tumblr, if you’d like to catch up with them there. Let me know what you think or if you are also following the prompts!
Day 15: Amber
The amber liquid burned as it slid down her throat and she suppressed a cough from the smokey taste. Pretending that it didn’t make her nauseous, she ordered another shot, hoping that she would be able to get buzzed sooner rather than later. Noticing the stain of color on the glass, she choked back a sob as her thumb wiped away the remnants of her coral pink lipstick from it. Her second shot and a glass of water plinked onto the counter, and she looked up at the bartender’s deep plum lipstick as the woman said, “He isn’t worth it.”
Day 16: Breezy
She laughed whenever the wind blew past them, making the strands of her hair that had escaped her ponytail dance. He hunched his shoulders against the wind, not as enthralled by the breezy day as she. He watched as she directed her face to the wind, apparently delighted at the weather, until a particularly strong gust billowed her jacket out behind her. She was almost knocked off her feet, but he reached over to wrap her jacket and his arms around her to keep her in place until the gust died down. They stayed hugging even past the strong wind.
Day 17: Fireside
They were sitting by the fireside, the crackling flames being a stark beacon against the dark trying to swallow the field they were camping in. He lay awake in his bedroll and stared up at the starless sky, only knowing where the sky and earth met with the help of the campfire. In the distance was the telltale wail of strange creature or a monster, his mind couldn’t decide which. A gloved hand gently ruffled his hair as his friend passed by, and he heard his friend whisper, “Close your eyes and get some rest. I’m on watch right now.”
Day 18: Woodlands
The woodlands were neverending. Sunlight streamed through the leafy treetops, making the woods sparkle. Skipping over a babbling brook that looked familiar, he soon found himself lost for the umpteenth time as he encountered another fork in the woods. He used to know the woods as well as he knew his mother’s favorite dress or his father’s favorite food, but even those memories were beginning to slip from him. While the woodlands were gorgeous and filled with all sorts of greenery and creatures, he didn’t fancy remaining lost for all eternity. He should have never given the fairy his name.
Day 19: Crackling
The fireball, sizzling and crackling, hovered above his hand as he stared at it in wonder. Now that he created the large flame, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. He glanced around, trying to find a target to singe to dispel his magic. A smirk curled on his lips as he spotted one of his classmates, his self-proclaimed rival when it came to the magical arts. With a whisper, he directed his fireball to the feet of his rival, finding delight in the indignant yelp that came from him. His rival needed a new pair of boots, anyway.
Day 20: Pecans
The litter of dragon hatchlings were named after various nuts which, considering Paul was training them, didn’t surprise Katie at all. Almond, Peanut, Pecans, Cashew, the quartet of dragons were a jumble of clumsy limbs as they chased after each other and played. She watched them for a few moments before asking how their training was going and that she was impressed that not too much in the yard seemed to be destroyed. Paul preened but then turned red when Pecans sneezed out a chunk of ice that froze over a patch of lilacs. “We’re working on it,” he said.
Day 21: Migrate
A flock of geese overhead flew past, loudly announcing their plans to fly south for the coming cold. Lily took a deep breath, her chin resting in her hands as she waited for the inevitable. It wasn’t a bad job, not really. Rather, it was tedious. Every year, Lily hoped she would have been promoted by the time the annual Frost had to be done, but to no avail. Sage called for her and Lily shook out her wings as she joined the other fairies near the beginning of the woodlands, wand in hand. As the fairies flew, ice followed.
Follow along with the September Flash Fiction prompts found here! Please note that these are posted daily on my Tumblr, if you’d like to catch up with them there. Let me know what you think or if you are also following the prompts!
Day 1: Leaves
She leaves once more, her steps firm, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she marches out of the office. Her face is forward, hiding any emotions that she may feel, while I ignore the burning sheen of tears in front of my eyes. Her woven scarf – violet and crimson, colors of a queen – is snatched from the coat rack, the wooden stand wobbling precariously in place from the force before going still. Its brief respite ends when it shakes from her door slam. She leaves once more, but the difference this time is that she does not look back.
Day 2: Red
It was the richest red he had ever seen, the same color as her date night dress, as the rubies of the ring he had given her. She used the lipstick to mark what was hers, her green eyes bright as she licked her lips before kissing what she claimed. His favorite coffee mug, between a couple of black spots on his dalmatian’s head, the stubble on his cheek. Unfortunately, the color also stained the collar of his white shirt, a fact he had neglected to notice until it was too late. His wife’s shade of lipstick was coral pink.
Day 3: Falling
The last leaf was clinging to the tree branch, trembling with every breeze that blew by. She stared at it from the window, imagining that the leaf was trying to break free from the tree, much like she wished she could break free from school. A squirrel bounced along the branch as it leaped to the next tree, and she was silently cheering on for the leaf to gain enough momentum to let go. The leaf shook, the tip of the stem cracking with the next gust, before finally flying away. One day she hoped to finally fly as well.
Day 4: Sweaters
The scents of motor oil and spearmint gum clung to the fibers of his boyfriend’s oversized sweaters. One was a knitted, striped brown and autumn-leaf orange piece, made from a grandmother, although he could never remember which one. The other was a hoodie, a vivid green with details harking a favorite video game series. They were favorites to wear when the weather began to turn cold, both by his boyfriend and by him whenever his boyfriend needed to travel away for work. The scents always allowed him to pretend that they were close together until his boyfriend could come home.
Day 5: Chill
Her blue eyes held more chill than ice, a perfect sheen that reflected nothing of her thoughts. She listened, unblinking, as the soldier gave his report regarding the man that had snuck over the border. She asked little, interested in only knowing the trespasser’s relation to the emperor in the next country. Once the report was finished, she paused for only a few heartbeats before stating, “Display this man’s body at the border for the emperor’s other spies. Let them report back that I have no tolerance for the emperor’s antics. If he wants a war, he shall have it.”
Day 6: Pencil
It began with a sketch, with a light pencil touch, with outlines barely legible as anything but scribbles. Next came the inks, the pens, the markers, to make more permanent outlines for the whole picture. Colors then bloomed onto the canvas with paints and pastels, making the picture recognizable after its multiple drafts. But it all started with a pencil sketch. A dream that started out rough but, with enough perseverance, patience, and careful planning, became realized. And if the outline wasn’t quite right, an eraser could always help to start over. It would always work out in the end.
Day 7: Apple
She peeled bits of the fruit’s skin with her manicured fingers, flicking the curled pieces away from her as she walked. She eyed the red-shuttered house with a perfectly manicured lawn. A cluster of trees hid most of the house from view, as well as hiding her from view of the house. She tossed the apple in the air a couple of times, thinking of the last time the doctor stood her up, claiming work as an excuse. The apple hit the biggest window with a satisfying splat. As the saying goes, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
I may be biting off more than I can chew, but I’m going to do a daily flash fiction challenge. To me, flash fiction is 100 words. No more, no less. While I’m planning on posting the flash fiction daily over on my Tumblr, I’ll probably post my responses to these weekly on this blog.
But, hey, feel free to do this too. If you do a little flash fiction — or anything with these prompts — let me know!