flash fiction friday #77
what better time than trini time [usual read: anytime; this specific time, read reeeaaalll facking late] to reinvigorate a favourite? since i 12hours behind, we pushing back from noon to midnight all pertinent deadlines in the rules of engagement, which i strongly suggest you read [below].
flash fiction friday #77 trigger; going easy this rounds and letting you decide if is title/theme/both: love in the time of corona...
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural/thematic challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.09a.m. friday, trinbago time; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago time.*
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, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to this/my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment here).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on this/my trigger-post or fasbook note or instastory or whaever, 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 online).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago time.*
[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 leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.
posted by sweet trini @ 11:59 pm
7 comments
7 Comments:
Yuh ever walk down by a river?
It have certain things that every Trinidadian have to do: walk down by a river or go to a river lime; eat cascadoux to make sure that you go dead here, where you born; and play mas at least once in your life. I never do none. I feel that’s why I didn’t forget the dream I had about the river…
The water wasn’t clear in the dream and I remember it wasn’t moving fast. In fact, I not sure if the water was moving at all because it looked flat, flat like glass. I not sure why I was in the river since in my waking life, me and translucent bodies of water would never mix but there I was paddling about this river by myself listening to birds chirp in the trees on the bank in front of me.
Dreams does get a bad rep for not making sense but plenty other thing don’t make sense and we just accept it as fact, take W for instance.
Yes “W”.
Say “W” out loud.
Look at it – “W”.
Why the fuck is that a “double u” and not double “v”? You ever asked yourself that?
Did you ever, at any point in your life, say “I was just working on a document and something really strange occurred to me; why is uu = W but vv ≠ W?”.
Exactly; so accept as fact that in my dream all of a sudden I was bobbing up and down in the sheet of water, flailing my arms around and gasping for air when out of nowhere I make out two long arms pulling me out of the water followed by a crotch, and a smiling face. All of the body parts appeared to belong to the same individual since they all had a long, lean quality to them – long and lingay. Yes, the crotch was long and lingay too - it was a man and he short pants was wet...
I remember his thin face good because he had big, deep dark brown eyes and his nose was big and curved like a beak.
My body was heaving and my chest was tight. I wanted to breathe but my nose wasn’t working. There was something in my throat. It wasn’t water. I couldn’t shout. I couldn’t speak. My mouth was full and suddenly it was not. Next thing I know there was something liquid on my pillow. Geed.
You see why I couldn’t forget a dream like that? Me, in a river bathing when confronted by sudden death and rescued by a long, wet piggy and a smiling face. I dream that on Monday gone and since then I play all kinda mark and lose my money – 18 (water boat) for the river, 35 (big snake) for the piggy, 4 (dead man) for the drowning, 16 (jamette) for me…
Is only today when the government say Corona is a problem so they going and close all the lottery machine that I say let me give up on finding a Play Whe mark out of this dream. No Play Whe mean one less way to distract myself now that this virus have me at home whole day, every day and is how much Netflix I go watch? I thought that I could watch some porn and relax myself but meh eye was done feeling strain from watching Netflix, I go stress out my hand now too? Plus, that would be taking the whole “devil does find work for idle hands” too literally. I wanted to do something more unexpected so I opened Grindr.
In case you don’t know, nothing about Grindr unpredictable. You going to open the app and see everybody you already know. Is about 15 man in a distance of 2 kilometres from you, 5 of who is your neighbours (you bull 3 of them), another 8 who living in your area (6 of them you hail out on the app and you send them a picture of your dick or vice versa) and the remaining 2 think you too ugly to be acknowledged/you think they too ugly to be acknowledged or your friend tell you stay the hell away from them because they crazy.
5 neighbours (3 already ‘known’ to me) + 8 local randoms (6 recognisable dicks) + 2 untouchables = 15 in total.
So Grindr open and there were my Famous 15. Everybody online, face pic (or not) blazing and nobody saying nothing, including me, because I too afraid to start a conversation with any one of them and risk getting cuss because I just here to chat for real this time since I practising social distancing so no bulling, sucking or touching.
I was now going to log out of Grindr when my phone vibrate and I see a number 3 appear in the corner of an outlying, faceless profile. It struck me as odd that the profile didn’t appear to be one of my Famous 15. What adjective matches 16?
I open the profile and Lord Fadda God in Heaven, is:
1. a message saying “Hello”;
2. a picture of a tall, slim, dark man in he early 30’s with a bald head, wide eyes and a nose that could sniff out a crime before it even happen; plus
3. a picture of a piggy that standing decidedly north by north west, bend in the middle but long, lean and firm, and almost defiantly uncircumcised.
I recognise the piggy before I recognise the face. It was He of My Dreams.
Usually, I does blank men who just send me pictures of their crotch without even a hint of intimacy, but this was divine intervention so I introduce myself and ask him how come I never see him online before. He tell me specialising to be an ear nose and throat doctor so he studying in Miami but he come home last week before the US close their borders because next thing he end up on campus paying living expenses unnecessarily when he could be home staying for free with he mother. Financial prudence and what would appear to be a decent relationship with his mother? Sexy!
I tell him that as a medicine man he shouldn’t be sending pictures of he piggy and trying to entice the general public in these times of quarantine but he smart. He say that he know that is the only way to get people attention on Grindr and that a picture cah spread the disease plus, as an E.N.T. , he accustomed to looking for love in the wrong places.
This is why I calling you in a panic now. How I supposed to make dis man, that I see in my dreams last week, who appear out of nowhere today, fall madly in love with me if for all the time he in the country we can’t meet and, as soon as it safe, he going back to where he come from? Tell me how does one make love, in all its various meanings, in the time of COVID 19?!
in+done+posted immediately above this post on this blog@ https://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2020/03/fff77.html
cyah wait to read tings now!
walk good.
@kristoff swantastico, thoroughly enjoyed [:
so glad you doing this!
walk good
“It’s ok, baby. Go ahead. Cough on me.”
She looked at him and thought: How. Fucking. Sweet. This nigga just told me to cough on his chest. Must be love. She thought it laughingly even as her heart squished.
To be fair, they were done in de bed and bullin. Both had been battling the same cough on and off since carnival. Between savannah and Saharan dust, bound to muss, ent?
She’d been holding it in, afraid to kill the mood. No easy task when every thrust seemed to drive the tickle further up her throat.
He was right. Fluids flyin anyway.
She let it rip. The cough gripped her core, jerking her upward. As such fits are wont, it continued rhythmically. So did he.
^^^niiice...
loved!
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