Mid-Week Blues-Buster Week 3.17

Welcome to the Mid-Week Blues-Buster Flash Fiction Challenge, Year 3, Week 17.

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.


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 great duet by Iggy Pop and Kate Pierson (of B-52s fame).

The tune is… “Candy”. Here’s the link; https://youtu.be/6atx_vtjypE

This week’s Judge is… it’s still me. We’ve had some very low-entry weeks of late so I’ll be judging until we start to attract more entries.

The challenge is now open and runs through MIDNIGHT PACIFIC TIME on Friday October 2nd.

Now… Go write!!!


Posted on September 29, 2015, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. It was a rainy afternoon, which was probably a strange time to be out working the streets, but, you know, beggars can’t be chooses and all that jazz. Not that I was really that desperate for money, I guess. I mean, I was getting by and there was food on my table, so, in theory, I was doing okay for a nineteen-year-old that had no qualifications. Well, no official type qualifications anyway.
    No, I was doing okay but then I was not just looking out for myself. There was also the question of my mother who was living with me because she had nowhere else to go. I needed the tips that the men were giving me in order to keep us both.
    I pushed the dripping wet hair out of my face and turned to look into the street to see if there were any signs of any customers. Or the police, because I did not want to get caught, again. It was then that I noticed the man just staring at me. He was easily twice my age, but there was no telling what a person’s preference was going to be when it comes to age. Maybe he just wanted them young. Who was I to judge?
    I sauntered up his side and leaned against him suggestively. “Want some company or something like that?”
    He smirked at me. “Something like that,” he replied as he trailed his fingers down my side to the hem of my black miniskirt.
    Obviously he was not as worried about law enforcement as me.
    “Easy soldier,” I whispered to him. “How about we go somewhere a bit more… Private?”
    “I am only here for one night, so I have a motel room nearby that we can, shall we say, use?” He licked his lips as he spoke, and produced a key from his pocket that he waved in my face. “Coming?” He pressed himself against me as he started to walk in the direction of the cheap motel. “It will be dry as well, but I don’t exactly mind the rain.”
    The motel was your typically seedy dive that nobody noticed a man walking in with a girl half of his age. I very much doubt that it was not apparent what my job actually was because of the way that I was dressed. Mind you, it was not like I cared about anything anymore.
    He pulled me into a room and instantly pushed me onto my knees. I knew my job well enough to know exactly what he wanted from me, and I proceeded to give it to him willingly. It was not until I had his manhood between my lips that he told me that I reminded him of another girl he had met in the same area twenty years previously. He told me that this girl had not charged him for the night, but he had never seen her again. He told me that he had always regretted that fact.
    In absolute horror, I spat him out my mouth. Realisation began to sink in and I really wanted to go and be sick.
    “What’s wrong?”
    There must have been a great deal of mortification in my face as I simply said, “I think that I have just sucked off my father!”

    Word count : 551

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Pattyann McCarthy

    Wow! That’s raw, Angie! I like it. Earthy and honest. Of course, the end is gross, but I can see it happening. 🙂


  3. davejamesashton

    Never Together

    It never would have worked, you and me. We were from different worlds. Those who were close to you offered support, at least with their words when they were around you. But their eyes and actions told a different story when I was present. Our time together was grand, but too draining for you, and you moved on.

    I hope the passage of time has been kinder to you than it has for me. By now, I’m sure you’ve achieved all that people lust after: the house, the car, 2.5 children with a grandkid on the way, a puppy that greets you happily as you return home. You deserve it.

    Another place, another time, and we might have been able to make it work. I’d begged you to come with me, to give it a shot for love. But you were adamant that we could make a go of it anywhere, so here was good enough. In the end though, you needed more.

    I could see your mind was made up, but I hoped beyond hope that you’d change. The problem was you already had. I’d sensed you withdrawing and clung on. That was to my detriment. What’s that saying? ‘If you love something, set it free?’ I guess by some weird logic that means you loved me.

    Too many towns, too many years, yet you still haunt my mind. First thought when I wake and you are forever present in my dreams… or should I say nightmares. I remember your final, tear-filled words: ‘Just leave me alone.’

    Eventually my close friends became concerned enough to track me down and staged an intervention of sorts. They finally convinced me that there was nothing for me here, I could pine for my memories back home. The lighter gravity and the fact that your Earth only orbits one star instead of a binary system like mine means that that my return will be marred by more than emotional scars. But for those glorious moments spent with you, it is a price I am willing to pay.

    345 words


  4. Declan sat staring out the window to the rainy street. In his hands a small photo of a laughing woman with curly red hair and bright green eyes. The photo was obviously old and worn around the edges from being kept in his wallet.

    Jenny called out from the coffee bar, “Dec, you want another?”

    He jumped a bit and then smiled, “Yeah, thanks Jen.”

    Her mouth quirked up on one side, “I see you’re at it again boyo. Ya know she’s just on the other side of town right? It’s not like she died.”

    He grimaced, “Doesn’t matter and you know it.”

    She brought his coffee refill to him, “Dec, it was twenty years ago. She might be happy to hear from you. She might not but at least you’d know. Every time you come to town you spend hours staring off into space with her photo in your hands. Just ring her up. If she tells you to piss off then so be it.”

    She put her hand on his shoulder and said very gently, “Stop being such a limp dick fucking coward.”

    Declan snorted, “As per usual Jen, your way with language absolutely inspires.”

    She grinned and then smacked him on the back of the head as she walked back to the counter, “That’s what sisters are for…just doing my job.”

    Joy was finishing up in the kitchen after Sunday supper at her folks house when the phone started ringing. She heard the murmur of her Mothers voice as she stared out the rain slicked window. It was fall and from the kitchen window she had a lovely view downhill of all the trees decked out in reds and yellows and oranges. She loved Autumn but it tended to make her a little melancholy. It was a constant dance with memories.

    “Joy?” She turned to see her Mom standing in the doorway holding the cordless phone and frowning.

    Alarmed Joy dried her hands quickly, “What’s wrong?” Her Mother looked…irritated. Then she held out the phone saying, “Its Declan Shaw for you.”

    Joy’s widened in surprise. Her heart ramped up to light speed and she felt frozen in place by the shock. It had been, what, twenty years?

    Joy took the phone and stepped out on the back stoop for some privacy. She took a deep breath and said, “Hello?”

    “Joy? It’s Declan Shaw, but uh…I guess your Mom already told you that.”

    His voice sounded so familiar and yet such a thing of the past.

    “Well this is a surprise.”

    “Yeah, uh, I just…I’m at…shit…do you think…fuck!”

    Joy chuckled, “It’s good to know you still fumble and curse when you get nervous.”

    Declan laughed a little, “Yeah. I can’t believe you would even come to phone knowing it was me on the line.”

    Joy frowned, “Dec, have you spent the last twenty years thinking I’m mad at you?”

    He paused, “Yeah.”

    “You dumbass.” Joy pulled out her smokes and lit one, “There’s a difference between being heartbroken and being mad Dec. You were in a bad spot, and a way opened up for you to not only get out but have a shot at something you absolutely loved. That escape plan only had room for you. I was glad you got out, I still am. It wasn’t easy to let you go, but I didn’t want to see you dead. And we both know that was just around the corner back then, so letting you go was the better choice.”

    In a nervous rush he said, “Joy I’m in town, at Jenny’s. Can we meet up?”

    Joy was silent for a long time.

    Declan started to say something but she shushed him, “Just give me a minute. I’ve spent twenty goddamned years hoping I’d hear your voice again saying you want to see me.” She paused again and then in a voice tight with contained emotion said, “So this is what it feels like when the Universe grants your deepest wish.”

    Voice rough with emotion Declan said, “Yeah? I guess I’ll find out what that feels like when I see you again.”

    Word Count: 686


  5. Candy of Hope

    Susan looked up from her approved breakfast meal, optimized for health, and sighed. The mush had all the nutrients the body needed, precisely measured for her genome constellation and age bracket, but without anything that any focus group could find to cause her or anyone else harm. Or that could cause taste, for that matter. Sculpting it with a compostable spoon, she couldn’t even build anything recognizable before the structure collapsed in on itself to a featureless void. Darkly, she thought that it was oddly fitting for how the big city had changed in…geez, has it been twenty years?

    She finished her scheduled meal, so that her networked blood sugar device wouldn’t register a drop and send alerts out. When she finished, she threw the container into the trash, but even that failed to satisfy her. The engineered corn starch collapsed almost silently, designed with the safest energy dispersal model possible. She paused and looked out the window, reminiscing, until her earpiece buzzed to remind her that a scheduled alarm to leave for work that would be activating shortly.

    She couldn’t tell which was bleaker: the winter sky above, or the colorless vista of the modern city, where any color or texture that could be considered offensive had been banned. Even the self driving vehicles passing on the street failed to break the monotony. Since cars became self driving, and in order to keep them safe driving, they had become a city utility instead of a possession. However, that meant they all looked the same, blending in with the eco-crete in what some had called stress reducing.

    Susan had long ago learned to fake it and just smile along, but not too widely. Faced with another day, with a hole in her heart where life used to be, she couldn’t help but look to the bottom of the cabinet. “Just one little bit, before work, she thought.” Her indiscretions were becoming more frequent, but she just needed what it gave her.

    In frustration, a long time ago, she had kicked at the bottom of the panel. To her surprise, the front facing of it had popped off, and she found she could attach it again with only a little force. The stark edge looked so foreign, being an unrounded corner, and without the slightest bit of cushioning. Her treasure fit inside the “false bottom”, and the clandestine hiding place felt so exhilarating!

    Before her earpiece could chime, she knelt down and pressed at the front, popping it free. Inside a gap in the frame sat a self sealing plastic box. She punched in the security code and lifted the lid. Color! As it always did, just seeing a cacophony of hue made her smile. Foil wrapped, the contents reflecting the light like a thousand miniature rainbows. Next, the smell reached her nose, with a decadent richness of earth and joy. Her fingers precisely plucked out a single small piece of the precious contraband. Susan unwrapped the treasure, careful not damage the dark nub inside. Heated by her fingers, the fats and oils felt smooth and almost alive. Slipping it into her mouth, the taste reminded her of days long ago, of haunting dreams that nobody else could see.

    Startled out of her bliss by the daily alarm, she precisely placed the wrapper back into the plastic container, sealing it with a hiss. Replacing the box into the cabinet, and the front casing, she wrestled with a familiar conflict. Her contraband made her feel happy, made her feel love for a few brief moments, what could be seditious about it?

    “After all, it’s just one piece of candy.”

    @BryantheTinker, 607 words


  1. Pingback: Candy | AngieTrafford

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