flash fiction friday #22

courtesy sterling henderson, flash fiction friday #22 (starter) trigger: when i drink...
please reread recently revised rules of engagement, below.
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. 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 brilliant 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 piece (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 piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post 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.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

short but linkalicious: mosdub

courtesy pardner + recent guest for 2 awful, awful, awful weeks (yeah, that's right, 3 awfuls and still eh find time to blog it; barely fffing), liking this so much i thought i'd share+archive; listen+enjoy: dub reggae + mos def = mosdub (produced by max tannone)
walk good.

fff#21: when people wore pyjamas and lived life slow...

hasn't come to me this fast in awhile, and i wasn't expecting these words...i credit dj thz with unexpected inspiration.
flash fiction friday #21 (starter trigger):
it wasn’t how fresh the smell of mangos made the air.
it wasn’t how fresh the haze of just-cut grass and recent rain felt against my skin.
it wasn’t even how fresh the boy next door was, not pretending he wasn’t eyeing my ass in my shorts as i bent over snatching up nearly-ripe julies.
it was how fresh the intro to slick rick’s children’s story was and the realisation that he knew all the words that made me fall in love with him forever in that moment...

walk good.

flash fiction friday #21

flash fiction friday #21 trigger (starter): it wasn't how fresh...
please reread the rules of engagement, altered slightly of late.
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. 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 brilliant 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 piece (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 piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post 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.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

fff#20

back in a short to trigger fff#21, but wanted to post my fff#20 attempt before i start hating again and completely revise again for this trigger. people done write #20 so time to get the next trigger up...
flash fiction friday #20 trigger (inclusion): sunny, sandy, wet, warm, limp.

if is 1 thing i hate, is a limp-dick handshake. which is exactly what i get. it was extended and i went brave, reach out and touch, and get somebody slightly sweaty dead hand. instant disappointment. you know one time, this “date” going nowhere.
but we walk to the car, he press the button bleep-bleep and walk straight ‘round to his door. i smile and say thanks and open my door myself. in the car now, we listening to something ambient that have him grooving, but lacking depth for me so i examining+analysing every visible detail to entertain myself. i watching he receding hairline. in side-profile, that shit duck all the way back behind the man ears!
he wearing a striped polo, heavy-looking knit, which might explain the a-c-with-shortsleeves, he must be feeling warm, as evidenced by the clammy palm. his hair, what he have left, have that sandy kinnah finish, probably one of them who start blond and get darker as they get older. good bone structure, strong nose+jaw, powerful arms, but that pale skin doh do it for me. i prefer a nice browning, myself. but he ask nice enough and his timing was good – i was bored enough to accept. but still bored now…
“sunny, as in disposition, or sonny, as in junior?” i hoped it wasn’t junior; the receding hairline was bad enough without irony.
“neither…”
and then we both hear the wet thunk and freeze.
this thunk too loud to ignore, and as we now-nervous eyes make four and he start to pull over i hoping is a dog because otherwise it sound bigger and badder than we prepared for this evening, en route to daybreak to “lime” (for the benefit of blindly-straight friends). he put the car in park, anxious eyes meet again, and in the non-election-season-absence of streetlight i suddenly glad i doh have to be the man this time. and is not my car.
suni(?) open his door and look around, even all up into the already nearly-nude poui branches, and i glad again is not me to man-up this rounds.
he step out the car, leaving the door open, and start scanning the road. i keeping one eye on the darkness ahead and the other on the rearview mirror ‘cause i watch enough movies to know wha’ go on.
then something pass in my peripheral vision, barely inside the rearview frame, pulling my eye into a futile reacharound. i fix full sight on the mirror, defying shadow to define itself. nothing.
by the time i eventually look out at the road again, i was utterly alone.

walk good.

flash fiction friday #20, plus request

1st; special request: please tell griot productions what show(s) you want to see @ http://griotproductions.blogspot.com/2010/05/your-suggestions-please.html
and now, on with our story(s)...for our latest (pun intended) flash fiction friday #20 (and yay for our recent flurry of pens, pencils, keyboards, etc.) trigger courtesy a participant (inclusion): sunny, sandy, wet, warm, limp.
please reread the rules of engagement, below, altered slightly of late.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. 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 brilliant 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 piece (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 piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post 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.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

fff#19: revenge of the gunta nerds (perhaps a prologue)

been turning over the gunta nerds in my head for weeks, since a sweet lime with coreysan; not necessarily ready to dive into the full saga yet 'cause i need to write at least 1 play before the end of this year, while revising short fiction and trying to complete a novel and directing for griot and jumpstarting my production company (mcsquared) with a burlesque show and teaching @ lilliput and dancing. but this week they clamoured for an intro, so here's a snippet of gunta nerds that may or may not be part of something bigger...
flash fiction #19 inclusion trigger: pleasure, pain, sweet, dark, trouble

breathe the right trouble in the right ears and is revolution.
a day we liming, watching, of all things, a dance show on tv. some girl dancing to some poem and all of a sudden corey jump up and bawl, “allyuh, dis is shit, man. we hadda ride fuh eric”, like if he sitting there thinking ‘bout it this whole time. peter eh looking up from the tv at all at all – that gyul had a sweet body, dread – but he say, “well, yeah.” so when the sweetbody gyul finish dance we grab we geometry pans and pre-packed pocket protectors and jump on we bikes one time.
now this was spence first holiday home from uni so he kinnah outta shape with that “freshman 15” and panting behind little bit, but is me+corey, peter, bigteeth joseph, lee choy – me eh know how lee choy end up coming along, we musta make the plan as we was getting ready to ride and she was in the house with us the day – spence trailing.
kill we dead we riding for eric.
and we went, straight to eric grandmother house in westmoorings where he stay sometimes when school close, straight by eric grandmother and pull up bikes on the pavement outside the house next door and lee choy knock and ask for him. smile at granny like a nice schoolfriend just come to say hello, then bring he arse outside…
eric come out, confuse as to why lee choy at he door, especially as school close, they not no friend...but she tell him she want to ask him something quiet, private; curiosity make he step out. i mean, who couldna tell lee choy had that sexy body under that school uniform whole of the last academic year…and the short pants she had on in the mayfair just confirm it.
as she bring eric outside, that was it; had no time for him to look confused, no wash-foot, every man jack jump in. bigteeth joseph dive at he legs and take him down one time and man pile on, tearing, cuffing, kicking. i remember i hear the gasp with the 1st compass chook in he backside, gasp of shock maybe more than pain first, but spence fall on him with a vengeance plus divider in the other hand now, compass still flailing, eric on the ground bawling, next ting, lee choy backing-back, her face dark-grey like the day she get the a-minus in history in form4, whispering, pleading, “allyuh stop it stop nah allyuh stop allyuh go kill him”…
i see how lee choy moving so i pull up and start grabbing fellas off eric. when we see the man good, he lip bus’, he eye looking suspect, the face slightly pulpy and arms and back – where he shirt tear – have plenty compass+divider chook-marks. but he was crying and pathetic and that was enough. we wasn’t out for blood, just respect.
we stand up around him a minute; lee choy come back close enough to satisfy herself he would be alright in a few days.
spence make some comment about, “you mighta think you serve in 6th form at the headmaster’s pleasure, but now you know, is at ours. no amount of donations will buy peace for you again…”
after that we hop back on the bikes and went to our regular spot, normal normal, except the rest of that evening, nobody say a word.

walk good.