#SwiftFicFriday – Week 80 Prompt

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 80 Prompt

Welcome to the new and improved flash fiction writing prompt series – #SwiftFicFriday!

I’ve changed the rules, so if you didn’t see my tweet, check them out!

Rules to keep in mind:

  •  You have THREE DAYS (AM Friday-PM Sunday on the east coast) to submit your entry.
  • Include social media links/handles/anything you want to promote (Twitter, FB, etc) & word count in the comment with your submission.
  • Submission must be between 150-300 words.
  • All stories are property of the authors.
  • Winner will be determined via reader votes on Mondays.

Ready, set, write!

Prompt: This week, a phrase! Incorporate the following phrase into your piece:

“It’s not that impressive.”

Happy writing!

4 thoughts on “#SwiftFicFriday – Week 80 Prompt

  1. Walter

    My name is Walter. This tag says so. It reminds me of my name. Some days, I forget. The tag helps I suppose. When I remember that it is there.
    Sometimes I don’t remember it at all. Or even remember that I don’t remember. My name or my tag.
    They tell me sometimes about that. They are always here. At least I think they are. When I remember that they are.
    They have tags too. We all have tags. There are many people here. They all have tags.
    Some dress in white. All white.
    Others dress in blue pants and pink shirts, dresses.
    There are women here.
    Some in dresses. Some in pants.
    A couple of the men wear dresses.
    One is a bright red dress.
    I think about red dresses often, I think.
    When I remember that I am thinking about red dresses.
    Bright red dresses.
    I must mean something to me.
    Sometimes, others come. They hold our hands, stroke our cheeks.
    They cry sometimes, these others who come.
    One brushes my hair.
    When she does that, she often cries.
    Once she laughed.
    She never wears a red dress here, but I seem to remember that she once did.
    It makes me so angry sometimes when I can’t remember her wearing the red dress.
    The last time she was here, I said, “red dress”. I don’t know why I said it.
    Maybe I remember I was thinking about it.
    She asked one of the men dressed in white what that meant. She said, “is it a good sign?”
    “No,” he answered her, “it’s not that impressive. It’s like, at least I think it’s like, looking at an image through a View-Master…did you ever have one?”
    She nodded.
    Then I fell asleep.
    I think I dreamed of red dresses.

    300 words (with title)
    http://www.engleson.ca
    @billmelaterplea

    Liked by 1 person

    1. While there is a typo, |I kind of like how it is. Halfway into the story, I meant to say “It must mean something to me.” The “t” dropped and it became, “I must mean something to me.” Something for me to ponder on anyways…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. There had been times when Vedania fantasized about immolating idyllic picnic spots. Standing in the inferno that was once a park, she found it only knotted her stomach tighter. The human girl sat insensate at one of the picnic tables, her distraught cat meowing and pawing to rouse her. Vedania focused on the girl’s mother, who was calling gouts of flame to and from conflagrant grills around the park, like some sideshow magician.

    “Impressive what mere humans can do given the opportunity. Isn’t it?” Malain teased, hell blazing in her eyes.

    Smoked choked the sky to a macabre red haze. Sparks in the desiccated air singed Vedania’s lungs. The otherworldly archer would have been concerned. If she weren’t so angry.

    “It’s not that impressive.”

    Vedania stood stone tall and unflinching as Malain played her pyrotechnics provocatively around her opponent.

    “Come now, surely you can appreciate the irony of your meddling in the mortal world bringing us to this point?”

    “No.”

    Vedania nocked her bow and fired. Malain vanished in an ascendant pillar of fire and their battle began in earnest. The human become sorceress’ powers were unprecedented in Vedania’s world, let alone the human one. Even sure her sworn sisters’ worlds might not have power like she now faced.

    Pouring all her heart and magic she could muster into each arrow, Vedania was breaking boundaries too. A cupid wasn’t supposed to charge their arrows with hate, but she took grim satisfaction from the destructive power of each baneful shot. Leaping and rolling through pursuing flames she kept up a running battle against her still superior adversary. Vedania would win this fight by force of will.

    Darkness lanced through Vedania, rotting her insides. She fell to her knees, consciousness fading. The girl stood behind her, hand outstretched and expression empty.

    299 Four Sisters AU words
    @DavidALudwig

    Liked by 1 person

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