Flashfiction #2

@MadiMerek and @TinsleyWarren wrote beautiful pieces for the first flash and I encourage you to read more of them. You can find Tinsley’s works here and Miss Merek, has a new book that’s coming out. Click on the links and check them out.

 

I decided to try something new for this flash. I’m going to post both a video and a picture. There are those of you who may recognize the people/characters in the photo, this is not a “fandom prompt”, you can write your flash with fandom or without. Remember, my darlings, there is no right or wrong, just share your beautiful words. You can write for one or the other, or both. When you submit your flash fic, remember to include the following:

Your Name

Twitter handle

Word count (100 – 500 limit)

Which prompt you chose to write for

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Comments
  1. Monica Florence says:

    Monica Florence
    “Falling Slowly” prompt
    @Moflo19
    358 words

    Four weeks of rehearsals. Four weeks of sitting at a piano, playing my fingers to the bone. Four weeks of singing my voice raw. Most importantly, four weeks of being near HER. Four weeks of feeling my heart race every time she sat next to me, breathing in the perfume of her skin and hair. Hours upon hours spent harmonizing with her sweet soprano voice. Four weeks. Four weeks of conversations and grins and laughing at her quick wit. Four agonizing weeks of wanting what I can’t have.

    The night has arrived. We sit side by side at the Baldwin singing our song on the stage of a packed auditorium. She’s luminous in a soft pink dress that compliments her pale skin. I fight to keep my eyes on the piano keys and off of her shiny curls. I play the notes I’ve perfected. We sing the powerful words that I know only one of us feels. Four weeks of hard work pays off and we stand hand in hand and take our bows. There’s applause and whistles and our smiles are blinding.

    We walk backstage and she pulls her hand from mine. Her pace quickens until she’s running into HIS arms. His hands caress her cheeks. There are kisses and smiles and whispered words that make my heart ache. He shakes my hand and congratulates me on a job well done. Their arms are wrapped around each other as she thanks me for being her partner. I’m polite smiles and nods and wishing the ground would swallow me whole. They finally walk away, fingers entwined, and my eyes sting with the tears I won’t shed.

    I shove my hands in my pants pockets and head toward the exit, skipping the after party. No one will notice my absence. At my car, I light a cigarette and let the smoke burn my lungs. I exhale and look to the moonless sky. “Thank God those four weeks are over.” My voice is rough and I clear my throat. I get in my car and drive off in search of a bar and a warm body to dull the ache.

    • Krzpepper says:

      Awww, Mo you’re breaking my heart with this!! So awesome! Fantastic job!!

    • angelycdevil says:

      Are you in cahoots with Wolf on the mission to shatter my feels?! ARE YOU?! Gawd, that was so beautiful. I need more. Please! ♡♡♡♡

    • angelycdevil says:

      Are you in cahoots with Wolf slowly but surely breaking our feels? ARE YOU?! That was beautiful, baby. MORE PLEASE!

  2. aywowww says:

    Mo, baby. This is heartbreakingly beautiful. I knew you had it in you!!! ❤

  3. aywowww says:

    Wordcount: 497

    Author: Aywowww

    Twitter: @aywowww

    I slip in through the side door, hoping to get a seat that was the right amount of close but not too close to be noticed. Luck was on my side as I found the perfect spot in the middle. Close enough to see her, but far enough that she wouldn’t be able to spot me. After a few moments of ignoring “where are you?” texts, the lights dim and my eyes are glued to the stage.

    From the moment the spotlight shines on her, I’m entranced. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. Her hair that was once long and blonde is now mahogany brown and cut up to her chin. I’d always loved her hair but the new style suits her well. Though I cant be sure, because of my seating, I think I see her lids close over emerald eyes as she strums the first chord. Her way of coping with nerves, she’d said, was to close her eyes and imagine she was alone on a beach and singing to the waves. As she sings and strums, I realize that I don’t know this girl anymore. I know the girl she used to be. The more heartbreaking lyrics that come out of her mouth, the more I want to get to know her. Again. The more she strums, the more I regret every decision I’ve made since walking out her front door.

    When her eyes open as if she’s gained some resolve, I realize I’m on the edge of my seat; I’m leaning towards her. With the new verse she sings, there’s a new defiance in her voice. I’ve only somewhat been paying attention to the words, more enthralled in her stage presence. Listening closer to what she’s saying, I feel a tug in my chest. She’s singing about ME. Regarding her stance and the almost aggression in her tone, it’s as if she’s singing TO me. I lean back in my seat and let out a deep breath. I never realized the other side of my decision. I never took into account HER side of things, HER feelings.

    As the song comes to a close, she looks out at the audience instead of above it; another nerve coping mechanism. This time, I could swear she’s spotted me because now instead of passion or aggression, I can see and feel the longing in which she’s singing about. Like she knows I’m there and wants me to know the mess I’d left behind. The audience bursts into applause and standing ovations and I’m still rooted to my seat. She thanks the crowd and as she walks off stage, she wipes her face as if wiping away tears.

    Standing up and tripping over feet, I eventually make my way into the aisle. I fight my way through exiting people, all but running to the side of the stage. With my own resolve and girlfriend be damned, I’m ready to fight for the girl I left behind.

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