flash fiction friday #73
apologies; my belly send me in the kitchen in a bad timing for fff. but better late, as i always saying...flash fiction friday #73 trigger; title: the end.
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 on my blog).
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 on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
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'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.
posted by sweet trini @ 12:50 pm
2 comments
2 Comments:
my fff#73 shared directly above this post on this blog, or@ https://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2019/05/fff73.html
walk good.
Jasper people come to Moruga from America, this much he know. He doh know where in America they come from. He doh know who was Buffalo Soldier from who was old slave. Who was field hand from who was house nigger. He raise in the Baptist faith. Shouter Baptist who take Jesus and baptize him in Yoruba and Igbo. Loving the white man god, not knowing they guilty of spiritual miscegenation with their faith mixing and douglarizing of doctrine.
The old testament confuse Jasper. All the tracing of lines, lineage, make him think.
He is Jasper, son of Robert.
Robert was the son of Stephen.
Stephen was a Meriken and he was the son of?
He is Jasper, son of Annette.
Annette was the daughter of Veronica (Vero) and Vero meet Stepehen on the boat to Trinidad.
She was Meriken too but she know that she is Vero, daughter of Nathaniel and Venus.
Right there it stop. Jasper can't go back no more. Stephen on his father side. Nathaniel and Venus on his mother side. He reach the end.
Lying in prone position, dorsal to the ground, staring at the sky, Jasper feels surreal. The evening sun is almost fully crossed to the west and he is watching clouds roll by, feeling wind on his skin. Strong gusts that shake his body a little and light gusts that make him conscious of the hair of his arms and legs brushing lightly against his skin. His mind full of Abrahams and Issacs and Adams. Davids and Sauls and Josephs. A whole sea of ancestors. When he thinks of himself, though, he feels like he can only swim in a fishbowl.
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