tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6179760456010770350.post5012969203010372270..comments2023-10-19T11:52:05.429-04:00Comments on Spicin' It Up: Spicin' It Up Wednesday Flash Fiction Contest!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04753490551589564849noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6179760456010770350.post-85191066338061708272014-09-17T14:15:54.347-04:002014-09-17T14:15:54.347-04:00Wonderful! Thanks for sharing with us :DWonderful! Thanks for sharing with us :DAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6179760456010770350.post-56619652494334551272014-09-17T14:14:30.493-04:002014-09-17T14:14:30.493-04:00(non-entry)
He stared at the tattered shirt. It wa...(non-entry)<br />He stared at the tattered shirt. It wasn’t much so why did it mean everything? <br /><br />“We have to go.” The words were somewhere between anger and a plead, yet his feet wouldn’t budge. The muted red scrap of material was caught on crumpled cement pillars of what had once been a highway overpass. Such a small shirt—the child couldn’t have been more than four or five years old.<br /><br />“John, we have to go.” This time hands grabbed him, dragging him away from the heartbreaking sight. The sound of helicopters filled the air, a steady chop chop chop that rattled his nerves. Were they friend or foe? Did he even know the difference anymore? Did anyone know the difference?<br /><br />The two of them stumbled along, noses and mouths hidden behind strips of cloth. Dust and smoke still burned their unprotected eyes. Will we get cancer from the fall out? A laugh welled up then burst from his lips, and his companion shot him a stern look. Like they’d live long enough to find out.<br /><br />Olivia Starke <br />174 words<br />Oliviastarke@ymail.com<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6179760456010770350.post-32444578312788568872014-09-17T13:09:11.822-04:002014-09-17T13:09:11.822-04:00He walked through the door and approached the bed ...He walked through the door and approached the bed with shuffling footsteps. She stared, trying to figure out how this was possible. The things they told her, the things she had seen, words that created the mantra that had been replaying in her mind for weeks:<br /><br />Your life is over.<br /><br />“How are you here?”<br /><br />He looked at her, a deep sadness in his eyes that made her heart melt where it stuttered in her chest. But he didn’t speak.<br /><br />“They said…I saw you...”<br /><br />He stared at the tattered shirt that barely covered a body that was more familiar to her than her own, confusion rushing across his face in waves that were nearly palpable. He looked up, desperation in the unasked questions in his eyes. But then his expression softened as he let his gaze move over the curves of her face, the tear stains that suddenly seemed unnecessary.<br /><br />She reached out her hand and he took it, allowed her to pull him down onto that bed designed for two.<br /><br />“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.<br /><br />He answered with a kiss that stole everything from her soul.<br /><br />Laura<br />188 words<br />laurabethpeters@yahoo.com<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com