It was time.
He knew what to do. He’d accept whatever came out of it. He stepped forward, then stopped. It had seemed easier in his mind.
He needed to act fast, before he could change his mind. Breathing deep, eyes tightly closed, he dove.
The crowd cheered their olympian.
The story above is for my Flash Fiction series . The second in what I hope to be a long running series.
It’s thanks to Mia, who’s nominated me for the “One Lovely Blog Award.” And I can’t say how surprised I was when I saw that. It lifted my mood.
Things have been going downhill for a while and nothing seemed right. And when you’re sulking around, it’s a pleasure to have something like this happen to you. But I assume news like this, is great to anyone, anytime.
So, without further ranting, the rules of this award:
– Thank the person who nominated you for the award — Check
– Display the One Lovely Blog Award on your blog — Check
– Share 7 things about yourself — Uh oh, this is not my area.
– Nominate 15 bloggers you admire and let them know by commenting on their blog — 15, huh? What do you say we bend the rules? They’re more like guidelines anyway. (Yup. Pirate.)
About me:
*Bonus: I’m not a fan of hearts, and so I’ve used a non-heart image of the One Lovely Blog Award.
My nominees:
I realised something today. I’ve been writing a lot lately, but they’re not conventional blog posts.
They’re more like short stories. Six word stories mostly, and also longer ones. Like 50-100 words. But I won’t limit myself to 6 or 50 or anything like that. If I can, I’ll tell a story exactly in five, seven or fifty one words. And it’ll be deliberate.
I’m not restraining myself with these stories, rather, I’m exploring how I can say a story shortly, without a word limit nagging me.
And so I’ve decided to post short pieces of flash fiction regularly. (I’m terrible with routines, but great with beginnings) Starting this week, I’ll post flash fiction every Thursday. The other days, I’ll post random thoughts as blogs, and it’ll be as chaotic as ever.
I’ve always wanted to be a novelist. And for starters, (yet again!) it’ll be short fiction.
Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. And feedback is welcome, as always.
Here’s the first:
Hand in hand
“She clutched his arm tighter, as she almost stumbled on her heels. He noticed, but didn’t give it away. She sensed his serene look as he walked her down the aisle. He was smiling happily, knowing that from today, his daughter will see the world anew through her husband’s eyes.”
-Inspired by Beautiful in White by Westlife
Update: I’ve discontinued Flash Fiction Thursday, but I’m still posting flash fiction regularly. Only now, it’s more often than every Thursday.
People rushing by,
Fields of bean n soy,
Scent of fresh made cake,
All smiles, not so fake.
I’ve signed up for a new online course from the University of Iowa: How Writers Write Poetry. It’s a six-week long course, and that’s my submission for the first class. It was a pretty long video, but it was totally worth it and really enjoyable.
If you’re a poetry fanatic, check this course out.
There’s more from where that came from. How Writers Write Fiction – Starts September 27th 2014.
And hey! If you decide to join either of these courses, do let me know.
“How can you be so careless?” Jim shook his head clearly annoyed. “Clear that up, now” be barked at his wife.
She did. How clumsy of her, to drop that new porcelain vase that Jim’s mother had given them.
Jim was fuming, but Martha couldn’t quite understand why. He hadn’t even looked twice at that vase. He hated his mother’s floral taste, and had reproached her when she had brought it in. Martha decided not to say anything. Jim was in a bad mood. Now was not the right time to talk household affairs.
She sighed and got back into the kitchen. The dishes were waiting. Jim’s behaviour didn’t bother her in the slightest. She was used to it. Over these five years of marriage, the only thing that surprised her about Jim was the day he walked into the front door and flung his bag in a corner in anger. It had been only a month since their wedding day, and Martha was keen to build a steady relationship.
She had approached Jim who sat in the couch, cracking his knuckles and biting his lower lip.
“You want anything to drink?” she asked smiling.
He had looked at her. His eyes boring into hers. That’s when she noticed how frightening he looked. She had backed a few steps, the smile on her face fading.
He rose without saying a word. He turned to face her squarely and asked in a malicious tone, “A drink?”
He paused, for the anger to sink in. It didn’t take long for Martha. She gulped hard. Then, he continued “Get out of my face.” She made to leave when he added harshly, “Quick!”
That was the first time he had yelled at her. And also the last time he had surprised her.
She smiled at the dishes as she thought of that day long ago. How frightened she had been!
“I’m leaving for work!”
“Have a nice day.” Martha instinctively came out to see him off. She had learnt to speak in flat tones.
Jim reached his office. A huge pile of papers awaited him, just like each day.
“Late again, McGruff!”
Jim knew that voice. He had been yelled at in the same tone for five years now.
“I’m sorry, Boss. I’ll get to work.” Jim replied in a low voice. He cast his eyes down, and walked towards his seat uncomplaining.
I’ve seen similar incidents everywhere. We tend to take our anger out on people who don’t deserve it. Sometimes, we can’t help it. And so, this is my post for the Weekly Writing Challenge: Worlds Colliding. I know I’m late, but I wanted to publish it anyway.
