Flash Fiction – War against the World of the Snei!

Rose lineup Flash Fiction

Flash Friday once again – this time it was Man against Nature with the accompanying pic.  Guess who wins in such a titanic struggle?

I actually wrote (2) flash pieces for Flash! Friday last week – both their official competition, and the Wednesday warm up – I’m including them both just because I wanna be efficient 😀

Here’s the Friday entry:

War against the World

209 words

 

It was wrong – everyone knew it. The warning had been fed to me first in my mother’s milk, then the morning gloop, the daytime ration, and the evening synth-ohol. Never    -NEVER- consume things from the wild.

It gives Her a way to hunt you.

Find you.

End you.

 

By my reckoning, we had nine months becalmed on this accursed sea as She hunted our ship. Nine months of feeling Her malevolent presence and determination to flick the last remnants of Humankind from her watery garments. Nine months of breathing in her salt-tinged anger, feeling it burrow into our pores as the relentless sun beat on our shoulders.

Feeling that anger in our bellies as our rations ran out.

The difference between what a man won’t eat, and what a man will eat, is two days of starvation. If we were going to die, we rationalized last night; it would be boldly defiant to the bitter end, bellies full of Her forbidden bounty.

And now? In the bright light of day, blinking stupidly at the endless expanse of golden, hot sand stretching to every horizon? I’ve no more options, but no regrets. All that’s left is my anger, as fierce as Hers.

“Damn you, Mother Earth! You MOVED the ocean!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And here’s the entry from last week Wednesday – I couldn’t help myself, and got a bit goofy on this one, which seems to be a reoccuring thing with me – 100 words, I get silly.  200 words, and this sh!t gets SERIOUS.

I also want to point out – while everyone else was seeing a pair of shoes at the bus stop, and incorporating the three different shades of red – I was seeing the emergence of the Snei.

I really do dance to the beat of my own little drummer.

Beware the Snei!

100 misread words

“The Snei is coming! The Snei is coming!”

The panicked scream echoes off the pavement in front of my ruby-painted toenails. I’m shaking in my strappy crimson wedges, fighting against the terror surging through my blood. Men, women, and children dash madly from door to car, loaded with precious possessions as they flee the coming of this horrifying, dread menace.

I, in an unusual example of bravery or bravado, have decided not to flee, but to wait here, patiently, and in my best cherry-red shoes, for the Snei to arrive.

Oh…wait…I’m reading the sign upside down. Here comes the bus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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