Mid-Week Blues-Buster Week 3.14

Welcome to the Mid-Week Blues-Buster Flash Fiction Challenge, Year 3, Week 14.

This is a flash fiction challenge. The prompt is a song. You are not required to write about or even mention the song. It’s there only to get the ideas moving around in your brain pan. If you want to write about the song (or the video- it’s all good here) go for it but don’t feel like you have to.

The rules;
500 words, but it’s a slushy 500, meaning you can go up to 700 or as low as 300.
Post your entry right in the comments section of this post.

MAKE SURE TO PUT YOUR TWITTER HANDLE NEXT TO YOUR WORD COUNT AT THE BOTTOM OF YOUR POST. IF YOU’RE NOT ON TWITTER GIVE ME AN EMAIL ADDRESS OR SOME OTHER WAY TO GET A HOLD OF YOU!.

The challenge starts whenever I post this on Tuesday and ends at MIDNIGHT PACIFIC TIME on Friday. You read that right. Pacific Time.

This week’s song prompt is a lovely song by The Staves.

The tune is… “Mexico”.  Here’s the link; https://youtu.be/hYV0Wp0MdZ4

This week’s Judge is… me again.

We’re still not even approaching respectability as far as number of entries goes, so I won’t ask anyone else to take time out of their schedules unless we start getting more…

Anyway… the challenge opens the moment you read this post and runs through MIDNIGHT PACIFIC TIME on Friday September 4th.

Now… Go write!!!

Advertisements

Posted on September 1, 2015, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. Goodbye
    I am finding it hard to write this letter. At first, I thought that it was going to be an easy process. I mean, everything that happened was for the best, and all those right reasons that we often discussed. Those conversations that ran late into the night. You were not believe how much I miss those, along with everything else.
    So, anyway, the reason that I am writing to you is to try and explain exactly why I left. Ultimately, I had hurt you in the way that only a lover could. The very memory of it will always make me shudder in regret. It was the reason that I had to go, because I would simply aware that it was something that I would do again and again. I just could not bring myself to cause you any pain that could be avoided. It was simply to avoid this that I left you far behind.
    Where did I go? Well, this was something that we had discussed. You know that I longed to travel and see the world under different skies. I don’t know, but I always thought that everything would look different with new colours surrounding me. This is not the case though, because everything is darker without you.
    This has left me in Mexico, where the only thing that I crave at night is for you to come and find me and take me home with you. My dreams are constantly haunted by the idea that you will come and pick me up in order to carry me home on your shoulder. There would be no resistance, as far as I was concerned, even when it came to putting me on the bed.
    But that is not to be.
    Darling, I need for you to know that I love you so much, and always will. That is the reason that we can never be together. You will always cause my heart to ache in my need for you, but the most important thing is that you will be safe from any poison that I can disperse.
    I will always be thinking about you, always dreaming of you taking me home, always needing that seductive whisper that you provided.
    However, even though it breaks my heart to write this, we can never meet again.

    @Harmony77uk
    word count: 387

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Pattyann McCarthy

    The End of a Season

    “Come home,” he begged. “I didn’t mean it; it didn’t mean anything, I swear. Please come back to me.”

    Anna hung up the phone, hanging her head. She stood crying in the phone booth along some Godforsaken highway, near a truck stop in the middle of a Godforsaken desert. The sand, as hard-packed as the heart beating inside her chest. A heart that she thought was hard, but now she felt breaking once again. She left him, her meager belongings in the car and already days away. Was it worth going back to him, she couldn’t decide. She loved him, but he made her cry, her best years wasted on him for what. For him to cheat on her with Bridget, her best friend, her used-to-be best friend. She lost Michael AND Bridget; and she was lost in her agony.

    ‘Why, did, I, stop, and call him? To torture myself, that’s why,’ her pain crushing her chest. She realized she’d left her passport behind and she wanted him to mail it to her, whenever she got, wherever she was going, which was obvious to her, she didn’t have a clue. She thought she might go east, maybe Ohio and live there for a while, but the Chihuahuan Desert in New Mexico was already calling her to come home. She longed to see the colors of another sky there. Now Michael asking her to come back, she felt confused. Part of her wanted to turn her car around, and the other part wanted to keep going, not looking back. She’d never lived by herself and the thought of it both scared the shit out of her and excited her. Did she have the cojones to make it on her own? She wasn’t sure, but the idea was enticing. The question is was it enticing enough.

    ‘A cup of coffee will help,’ she decided. She swiped her eyes with a fist and trudged towards the shamble of a truck stop, which was practically empty. Three rigs parked there and smatter of cars, other than that, the place was as deserted and lonely as it looked, its decrepit façade collapsing.

    “What’ll ya have honey?” A Flo-looking waitress asked with a huge smile. She even wore the pink uniform and typical white apron.

    “A cup of coffee and an answer to a decision please.”

    “I can getcha the coffee, at least. Nuthun’ to eat? If you got a decision to make, a nice slice of blueberry pie always helps!”

    Sighing, “Fine.”

    Her coffee was getting a film on the top of it from the milk separating, getting cold and the pie was getting warm, a generous dollop of whipped cream melting, running purplish off the plate. Anna sat with her head in her hands, elbows on the greasy counter, tear-swollen red eyes, sniffing every few seconds.

    “Look honey, nuthun’ can be as bad as that. What’s the problem, you wanna talk about it?”

    Anna felt comfortable with the Flo-wannabe, and she shared her tale.

    “Leave the rat bastard! That’s my advice. Cheatin’s one thing, but with your best friend? Unforgivable! Breaks the girl code, but that’s just my opinion. Take the advice or don’t hon, your choice.”

    “I know that’s what I should do, but, I love him.” She thanked the waitress, paid for her food and grabbed a coffee for the road. On the way back to her ancient dust-covered car, she decided she‘d leave her decision to fate and flip a coin. Heads, I go back, tails, I keep going east. Inhaling a deep breath, she flipped a quarter . . .

    She coasted in on fumes and worn brake pads, took a pamphlet and a seat, waiting her turn.

    Moving her few belongings in, she took a walk around her home, hers, and hers alone. Walking the huge yard just browning, she watched from an old tire swing as gold and auburn leaves fell like snowflakes from baring tree limbs. She’d never experienced autumn before, the scents and the feel of homeyness surrounding her, and she smiled, feeling free for the first time ever – her fate, her new life resting on the flip of a coin.

    @PattyannMc
    WC:695

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 305 words including title
    @susanOReilly3

    This time it’s goodbye

    She smiled as she boarded the plane, flying to a new terrain. He’d hurt her too many times for him, her bell no longer chimes. Sick of all his lies herself she began to despise.
    Eventually she loved herself more, loving him became a chore. A chore she cherished and adored but she’s leaving before she becomes terminally bored.
    Fantasy never became reality she’d rather a cup of tea. No more fights and making up from the cup of self-esteem she’s going to sup.
    He’ll follow her she knows, dangle a carrot under her nose. This time she will resist unless she’s pissed. Full of good intentions, her leavings are too many to mention. He’ll woo her all over again and she’ll give into her never-ending yen.
    This time though it will be a one- time thing to mark the end of their 10 year fling. Her turn to use and abuse she’ll willingly light his fuse. Plans are already underway his games will end that day.
    She’s been saving for this time crying into her vodka and lime. Instead of a little gift after another rift she suggested he give her money and became again his honey. Along time ago she bought a gun her darker side won. His money was well spent to shoot she learnt.
    She’ll say she thought he was a thief as she’s sobbing uncontrollably through grief. She can see his chest profusely pouring blood his pleading will do him no good. This girl will no longer be spurned she’s past the point she can return.
    She’s priced her lawyer already, expensive but her winning run steady. He’s paid for her the dirty cheating cur.
    Soaring above the clouds I catch myself humming aloud. I’m feeling no semblance of guilt, all my tears already been spilt.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Codename Mexico

    Paper occupied haphazard spaces here and there within the white walled room and its minimal furniture, including having taken up residence on the level bedspread, its edges displaying precisely tucked corners. “Nowhere,” Jen said, quietly, before picking up one of the white leaves, with letters scrawled across it and the distinctive cartographic graffiti Haley had scribed into place, complete with its classic twelve-wind rose. She traced a finger across the surface and the various dark points of the compass gently.

    “Let’s pretend for a moment,” she said, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth, eyes remaining thoughtful. “Make believe with me. What d’you think?” Silence surrounded the blonde woman for a moment, closing around her bowed head.

    “Time to travel passed the borders.” Jen sighed – a slow exhaling. “Last trip together.”

    Dotted across the surface of the two dimensional planes of the map she held were the names they had collected together over the past few months – Basutoland communing with Abysinnia and Ceylon, before the borders merged with Siam and neighbouring Sikkim. Slightly farther away, lay the Urjanchai Republic, creating the vast territories of the Never Mores. At the far most edges were the smaller, yet still familiar, forms of the Independent States of the Never Weres. “Plus Mexico,” Jen said aloud. “Mexico on the horizon. You were always going to go, sooner rather than later.” She pointed a finger towards an area bereft of lettering, save for a faint tracing about its edges. Jen followed the outline slowly, barely needing to squint to read the three words they constituted – HIC SVNT LEONES. Unknown territories.

    “Not now,” she said. “Besides – we knew what was there, really.” Jen laughed a little, without mirth. “Let’s call it Mexico, shall we?” she said looking into the distance. There was no response. “Hope it’s sunny there at the minute. Sure I’ll see for myself when we catch up in due course.” The woman laughed a little louder this time, causing her curly hair to shift slightly as she did so.

    “I’ve added a Door to Somewhere too,” Jen continued. “Figured you’d want one – even though you hadn’t thought of it….before. Everyone needs one of those once in a while, right? Plus, there was a little extra space left over. Made sense to fill it with a Something. Hope you like it. Hope it’s okay I did that; took the initiative.” She paused for a moment. “It’s still your project, you know? Even though we worked it through together.” Silence crept into the space after the words. “Guessing you do.” She hesitated momentarily. “Just the one addition now…haven’t forgotten that – don’t worry. The instructions were pretty specific – not that I needed reminding. Even brought The Pen, and everything….Pretty big honour to be able to use it, y’know?” Jen’s lips trembled slightly and the pen wobbled in her hand, before it became steadier.

    “Guess it wouldn’t do to have skewiff lettering right at the end, would it? Kind of ruin the whole effect,” Jen said. She brushed at her cheek brusquely, rubbing at it and leaving an angry red mark in the wake, where the blood had rushed to the surface of her pale skin.

    “’s time, I guess,” she said. Jen’s eyes moved back to the map. She touched a hand to its surface, once again, resting briefly on the unmarked section and circling its edges. “We’d have gotten there for real, if there’d been enough – y’know?”

    Taking a large breath and exhaling it swiftly, Jen gripped the pen, causing white bands to form around the knuckles of her right hand. She placed its tip to the surface of the paper at the centre of the blank space, preparing to write a single word in it. “Everywhere,” she said out loud, before doing so. “Final stop within the Unknown World. Codename Mexico.” The corners of her mouth tilted marginally with the words. “Sweet dreams, Haley. See you when I see you. Come meet me when I arrive.”

    @FallIntoFiction

    (669 words)

    #FlashDog

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Another Sky

    You will never know that lines on the blue sky that I drew, the hues of purple I sprayed on the water, the shades of emerald I tucked in the forest.

    I could have never accomplished that with you. It was my unruly self against your regimented platoon. I was never welcome into your fold, and now I don’t think I never really wanted to be let in. I just wanted to be accepted, and I thought you and your platoon were my salvation. But what did an eighteen-year-old with the bruised esteem know? But you knew. You knew what you were bargaining for. You needed my bruises, my tears. You needed a captive worshipper of your godliness.

    The day I first stepped into the art studio, I felt a sense of déjà vu, as if I had been there before, maybe in an earlier life. As if I had lived in the painted forest on the wall in the past. The scent of the pine, the warm embrace of the smoke from the chimney, the rural mailbox with the red flag in that painting! That was my home. That is where I had dreamt of living.

    The long drive home was painful. The home you and I shared – I tried to make it my home, but you made it clear that it was your home, and your tastes mattered. You didn’t use many words, but your meaning was always clear. “Go tell your parents,” you said when I showed the slightest hesitation in following your choices. You knew perfectly well that I had no family and a checkered past. It was your way of reminding me of your omnipotence.

    I hid the first few of my art pieces. They were nothing more than bleedings of my heart on the paper. No one would be interested in them. But then my heart began to come alive through the paper and the splotches of color. I needed to see another sky, the sky that was clear and blue, not thunderous and cloudy all the time.

    The lines I draw now on the canvas of this new sky are not perfect. But I am free to fail. Someday, I may succeed. Even if I don’t, I will be happy under this sky of my choosing.

    383 words
    @needanidplease

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Here Or There

    I’m not from here but I can’t tell you much more. Once they put you in a program like this, who you were doesn’t matter and where you’re from is a black hole on hell’s distant shore. Wasn’t supposed to stay here this long. Plan was just to park me until things cooled down.
    Might have complained about being stuck in this one horse town but the view across the street improved a few months back so I keep my head down and my mouth shut. Pretty sure they forgot about me and that’s all right.
    Being forgotten is the best chance I have of staying alive. I almost said as much last night when I opened the front door and found that tall drink of water from across the street standing there with a couple cold ones. But like usual, on Friday nights, we sat on the porch sipping brews and let the crickets do all the talking.
    This morning, though, he was back at the door. That was new and if I’ve learned anything since the batch of stupid that put me here happened, there’s nothing good about new.
    Rugs get pulled out from under you, bullets come zinging into your personal space, and shit generally gets screwed up beyond all recognition.
    He stands there in jeans, t-shirt, and boots, hair still sleep mussed. “Look. I’m not from here and I sure the hell don’t want to stay here, and the only damn thing keeping me here is you.”
    Like that was my problem? “Pack a bag. Hit the road. Send a postcard from Brazil. Or Mexico.”
    He rubs at his grizzled cheek. “I was thinking more like the two of us shaking up together somewhere shit can’t find us.”
    Wait. What was that? He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know. “Well I’m thinking you need to go sleep off whatever it is that gave you that dumbass idea because something’s not right in your head.”
    “Only thing not right is that we aren’t under the same room and the same sheets. I know you’re running from something. Way I know it is that I am too. Now, you’re probably innocent as a spring lamb. But me, I’m guilty as hell’s carpenter. So we’re in different shit for sure, but shit always rolls downhill, don’t it?”
    I grab the porch post to keep my legs from going out from under me. “I can’t leave here.”
    His eyes glance at me and then out across the field. “Yeah, and I can’t stay here. Not much longer. Not without getting found out. So what are we going to do about it?”
    “There is no ‘we’. And even if there was, what we’d do about it is suck it up, kiss it goodbye, and go on with our screwed up miserable lives. There isn’t any other answer for people like us.”
    “What if we were from here?”
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “What if we went native? Hear me out. There was a couple from here that went on a cross country vacation a few months ago and never came back. No one has claimed their home or property and no one remembers them. We could change our appearance and behaviors and become them.”
    I sit beside him on the steps. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’d really consider being from here?”
    “If it means being with you, yeah, I would.”
    “I don’t know. What if they have ugly furniture or terrible names.”
    “Lloyd and Lorraine, but I’ll call you Sweetpea.”
    I glance over at him. “Oh, was that her nickname?”
    He smiles slow and sweet. “Nope but I’ve always thought that would be the perfect nickname for you.”
    Well, how was I going to say no to the world’s dumbest plan with those baby blues staring me down? Hell, if dumb got me into this mess, maybe it would get me out. Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to say no to a man named Lloyd who was fixing to call me Sweetpea.

    – – – – –
    688 / @bullishink

    Liked by 1 person

  1. Pingback: Goodbye | AngieTrafford

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: