fff #3
love that we actually doing this, people! thanks for joining and please remember to read the slightly tweaked rules of engagement below and to check for and comment on others' flash fiction fridays. if new and interested in the previous 2 attempts, here's fff#1 (starter trigger) and #2 (inclusion clause).
this week's trigger's a starter, and i hope the contributor will forgive me for making a slight adjustment to open up its possibilities to a wider demographic (so wonderfully, temptingly scandalous in its original form):
they never could get that right...
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for triggers (starter sentences, closers, titles, inclusion clauses, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55am friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too wonderful not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your story (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to the deadline.
you will display your story as a post on your own blog (or fasbook note or whatever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.
write fresh!
walk good.
posted by sweet trini @ 11:57 am
15 comments
15 Comments:
They never could get that right, the exact right amount of gravy i needed on my food when i ordered lunch. I mean i was very clear in my request as i am every single wretched day i trek all the way to the only decent food place near my dismal office building. 20/20 vision my ass! I couldn't even get the food (read proper fuel) i needed to trudge back somewhat energised behind my desk to answer those God forsaken phones again.
All i needed to make my meal perfect was enough gravy over my potatoes to add more flavour to them, but not so much that all i felt i was eating was lumpy gravy, now is that so hard to do?
Staring at the disgruntled face of the serving lady, while she clearly contemplated dropping my plate on the floor, the answer was clear as daylight to me. Yes it was too hard and yes i was too picky.
With a tired sigh i signaled to her that i would yet again take the lumpy gravy and meat special she proffered.
One of these days though, i would be brave enough to say no thank you, can you redo the plate again. Yes, one day that is exactly what i will say to her. And on that day i will be fully resigned to the food poisoning episode that would surely follow....hmmm better be a Friday then...long weekend anyone?
They never could get that right, I thought, looking at the slightly misaligned frame around the photo of my family. The photo was beautiful, really crisp and clear and everybody was smiling, but something had to go wrong—and at Joe's Quik Pix, it was usually the alignment of the frame.
But I'd been taking pictures here my whole life. What was a tiny misalignment between friends?
They'd never get away with that crap in another town. But this wasn't any old town, this was June, my hometown, the place where I have my roots and my branches. My kids went to the same schools I went to, got their haircuts at the same barber I went to, and of course we took our family pictures at the same photo studio I had been coming to since I was a little boy.
I was eight when I came here the first time. My godmother, god bless her, was visiting June from the States. She hadn't seen me since I was a year old. I think the only picture of me she had was taken at my christening. I was a little black ball in a white christening gown, squalling in her arms. She made me a copy of the picture and I've got it at home. It's framing isn't quite straight either.
In June, nothing really changed. Until now.
Yesterday some punk shot at my boys when they were crossing the street. We never used to have gangsters in June. This is a safe town. Well it used to be. Now those crazy thugs are all over the place in their falling-down pants, and those hats pulled down so far over their eyes you can't tell if they even know where they're going. They're idiots. I'd ignore them but they shot at my kids for no damn good reason and so now...
I'm looking at my boys and me in the picture. They're good kids. Their pants are around their waists. They aren't wearing hats at all. In that crooked frame we're a happy, innocent family. And you can't see the gun I'm going to use to shoot those wannabe gangsters with, to keep my town safe. Because June is a nice place and I'm going to make sure it stays that way.
i'm walking, will link good
yay chrissy! i think i'm in, too, but post-rehearsal-exhaustion will be the final arbiter...walk good
They never could get that right! The writers of these damn soap operas always leave me wanting, like las lap. After a whole season and two days of constant jammin and drinkin and winin the sweeping of the streets at midnight was like an obligatory granted wish before a lethal injection. Mine would be a friggin climax...today!!! Cliff hangers were like the ultimate...oh gosh the truck shut down at 10:30 and yuh ride want to go home. Is there no satisfaction in this life? I would cook by 11:30 cause my better half was coming an hour later for lunch...sheperds pie...curry beef and potato...chicken and chips...you get the picture...one part meat other part potato. Hence my dilemma. The lunch time soap was my window into first world relationships. But like mine it never climaxed!It was fine by me that the daughter he never knew he had appeared as his father's secretary and mistress. I didnt mind that you never knew who the butler loved, despite him sleeping with all the women in the household. That kept me glued. It also kept my mornings running like clock work. Breakfast on the table by 7:30. Oh yeah...thaw the meat the night before. Make sure there were enough potatoes, if not run to the vegetable market on the corner and stock up. Laundry. Read the papers and of course do the crossword. It was how i built my vocabulary. And just like with my soap i would have to wait a whole day for the satisfaction of completing the process.The builiding of my vocabulary, like the building of the plot. By 11:00 id be in the shower and half way into a bottle of cab or sav or zin or something. No one would quite understand how important this was to me, especially the writers of the damn thing. I lived in hope though that one day the camera would give me what the writers didnt, something to say yes, i know your life needs this...here it is.
my entry is posted, a bit rough, but posted. cx
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in and done. sorry, i forgot to include the link again. http://foolishstoryhour.blogspot.com/2009/10/run-children-run-for-your-life-fff3.html
in+done @ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2009/10/think-i-like-this-fff.html (or a couple posts above this if you on my mainpage). excited to go read everybody! walk good.
chrissy, post the link or directions for the newbies, nah...walk good
liked these! bart, that sci-fi was grand. i didn't know you were into that, glad to hear your voice in it. write more.
and crazyfool, i loved it. you timed the revelation just perfectly.
mystie: bad food makes me sad; i need to go eat good to feel better. nice work.
lise: love use of misaligned photo to intro town/character, into plot- sweet!
sterling: something haunting in this...
fun reading. walk good.
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oops! thought EVERYONE knows my spot...guess not http://chrissysriverofaction.blogspot.com/2009/10/fff-3-spatter.html
oops! thought EVERYONE knows my spot...guess not http://chrissysriverofaction.blogspot.com/2009/10/fff-3-spatter.html
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