Posts Tagged ‘picture’

This is my entry for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Check out the prompt and other entries here.

Picture from pixabay.com

Word Count: 145

“There are laws against parking cars on the sidewalk,” the store owner said, glaring at the vehicle outside. It was painted like a hippy’s dream, a wooden crate of plants strapped down to the roof.

“How long’s it been there?” the customer – middle-aged, the definition of nondescript – asked.

The owner shrugged. “It was there when I got in this morning. It hasn’t moved since.”

“Maybe it’s some kind of art,” another customer suggested. She was wearing a shirt for a band the owner hadn’t heard of. Already, he knew he didn’t like her.

“Art.” He made a derisive sound. “What’s so artistic about obstructing my business?”

“Could you just finish ringing up my purchase?” the first customer asked. “I’m in a hurry.”

“What is it with people these days and hurrying?”

Business was slow that day, as it was every day. He blamed the car.

Here’s my response to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, which can be found here. I wasn’t entirely sure how this would end when I started it, but I actually really like how it turned out.

Word Count: 146

I look out past the streaking rain, at the watercolor scene beyond. It’s a blur of reds and oranges, so vibrant and alive. The rain patters softly against the window, a steady beat of water on glass.

“Do you see it?” she asks.

I look again, deeper and closer, through the rain, through the colors, through everything.

“Yes,” I reply.

It’s only a single spot, a splatter of midnight amidst the endless autumn colors, but it seems realer than everything else. I reach out and press my finger to it. I expect to feel the glass, but I don’t. My finger slips through, as if passing through a veil.

“It’s always there,” she says. “Just out of sight. Hidden.”

She smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Go on. Step through. Don’t be afraid.”

I take a deep breath, then step into the infinite unknown.