Hop on #TuesFlashFicTrain – Week 4!

As always, first things first – if you haven’t read the previous entries(parts one, two, and three), be sure to do so before tackling this week’s prompt! Also, take a moment to congratulate our most recent winner, Stephanie Ayers. Keep in mind, you have to pick up where she left off.

On to the prompt!

This month seems to have flown by. For me, a big part of time flying was how busy I feel like I’ve been, between real-life work and being much more active on here. There’s also prep/mild dread for NaNoWriMo that’s made the last couple of weeks seem to come and go in the blink of an eye. In keeping with the idea that there aren’t enough hours in the day, this week’s prompt is to write a fleeting moment. Interpret this however you wish – maybe the character is looking back on a particularly brief moment that marked them, or experiencing the feeling of not having enough time do something they really want to accomplish. It’s entirely up to you!

Somewhat of a side note: Since we’re nearing the end of this particular story, I’m opening up to title ideas! I’ve always been absolutely dreadful at coming up with decent titles (see Reckoning), so how about you guys (readers and writers) suggest some titles for the piece? After we have a few suggestions rounded up, I’ll throw up a poll and we’ll vote on our favorite! This will probably be once we have the last installment.

Remember, continue last week’s story, keep it under 400 words, and submit your response in the comment section below. Don’t forget to include your twitter handles and/or other social media links for promotion! Submissions close Wednesday at 11:59PM EST– tell your friends!

Questions, suggestions? Check out the rules in more detail and/or drop me a line!

As always, think happy thoughts!

Image credit: Image found via Google Image Search on hdimagelib.com

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9 thoughts on “Hop on #TuesFlashFicTrain – Week 4!

  1. How had I not known.

    These things saved so lovingly, yet the feeling never transferred to me. I never felt the love.

    Was it me? Did something live within me that refused to accept that love passed my way?

    I searched my memories striving to find a clue. An unexpected hug from my mother. A genuine smile of approval from my father.

    I stood in the darkened room searching for shadows within shadows.

    The breeze lifted the heavy curtains that blocked the tiny window. For only a moment, dreary light flashed unwillingly on my old desk. It huddles in a corner, dust covering the scarred surface. I lay my fingers in its depth, feathery tracks intruding in a sterile landscape.

    I pulled the center drawer open, inside were pens and paper. Pink flowered stationary. I remembered begging my mother to buy for me so I could write a thank you letter to my grandparents after my tenth birthday.

    Another drawer held birthday cards from friends and relatives. But, none from my parents. They had saved things of me, yet left nothing for me to remember. I slammed the drawer shut.

    A muffled thud behind the desk startled me. I felt about the floor beneath it, my hands coming across a long forgotten tome. Pulling it out, I knew instinctively what it was.

    White leather cover adorned with gilt colored script. My Diary.

    The strap with the gold plated hasp was tarnished with age. The tiny keyhole beckoning.

    I no longer had that key. This fact left me unsure whether I wished to rejoice or mourn.

    Perhaps there were forgotten moments of happiness recorded on those pages. Perhaps the admission to my young self of some misdeed.

    Either way, I didn’t know if I could bear the memories written inside.

    Renee L. Tennis-McKinley
    twitter @2old2tap

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I have been calling this story “Gone” in my files….

    A flashback zapped me from the dusty room. My fingers still caressed the soft velvet; the fake fur pure white, the plastic smell of the department store drifted to my nose. Music played softly in the background. The room spun with powerful scents of pine and cinnamon, a fire flared in an open fireplace. The heat penetrated through my red sweater and sweat moistened my skin. An unrecognized voice mumbled behind me. I turned toward the sound and gasped. The little bear in my grip tumbled to the floor and into the ashes scattered in front of the fire.

    “Octavia!” Ice edged the shrewd voice.

    I trembled and reached out to gain my balance. The sharp tips of the evergreen bit into the soft flesh of my palm. Instead of supporting me, the whole tree crashed down on top of me, the small ornaments jabbing splintered glass into my skin. My mouth quivered, and one tear after another fell on my cheek. I shrank into myself as the old woman raced towards me, her hand raised high, and her voice a belt across my back.

    “You stupid child” echoed from the walls around me as reality crashed in, the dampness on my face the only witness to my nightmare.

    “Oh my god.” The words slipped from my lips before I knew they desired release. I clutched the teddy tight in my arms, pressing the musty body into mine, my nose burying itself in its head. I squeezed as hard as I could, but something resisted. I turned the bear over. Small, neat stitches held his back seam together.

    Someone had hidden something inside.

    Stephanie Ayers
    @theauthorSAM
    https://www.facebook.com/ourwriteside
    http://ourwriteside.com

    Liked by 1 person

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