Monday, January 9, 2012

1/9/2012 Flash Fiction Tales

From @WakefieldMahon and his #MotivationMonday challenge:, the prompt was to start with the line: “An ancient legend tells of a sword and stone, but this was something different.”

Here is my tale:

An ancient legend tells of a sword and stone, but this was something different. He knew that to achieve greatness he had to cast aside all doubts, seize the tools and weapons in his midst, and rise above his fears. Like King Arthur, he would soon sit upon his mighty throne, but first he had to master the skills that would make him great.

He pulled the helmet from his sweaty head, letting loose an abundance of black tousled hair, and placed it on the ground next to his mighty war hammer. He unfastened his cape, setting it neatly in the confines of the winged helmet. Finally he pulled off his chest piece and sat it delicately beside the rest of his gear.

He took a step up, inspecting the foreign surroundings with wavering confidence. He recognized some of the equipment and peripherals around him, but he was uncertain of their purpose. An oddly-shaped bell-like device with a short wooden handle. Another handled object shaped like a tear drop with long wiry bristles. He did not think he would need to utilize them, but their mere presence was discomforting.

He could do this. He would do this!

Lowering his pajama bottoms and training underpants, he sat upon his toilet seat adorned with images of Mighty Thor and Iron Man battling their enemies. Shouting out triumphantly for his Mommy or Daddy to help him tidy up, he was a proud warrior.

Adam had finally mastered the potty.

246 words



And, from @CaraMichaels and her #MenageMonday challenge:, the prompt was to use a picture of an older trike (3-wheeled motorcycle), the words “blame it on”, and the words “terminal moraine”.

Here is my tale:

“The Steelers are playing in Denver, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, not taking his eyes from his prized 72”, 1080p, 3D-enabled television screen. He’d been there all day, having watched the earlier game, drinking several cans of beer and wolfing down practically a whole bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and two luncheon meat sandwiches.

“Hey Hon, what would it take to get you to climb to the top of the Rocky Mountains?”

He turned to his wife, a curious look on his face. “Uhh, well, that’s a good question. Blame it on the Boy Scout in me, but I’d want at least a three-wheeled, motorized vehicle with plenty of storage compartments to navigate the terminal moraine at the bottom. You know, the rocks and boulders and stuff. Once I got past all of that, I’d have to have plenty of gear: climbing ropes, carabiners, rations and water for probably two weeks, probably a compass and a satellite phone. That’s quite an undertaking, you know? I could do it, though.”

He seemed satisfied with his answer, but his wife did not appear impressed.

“Well, that’s great,” she said. “So what would it take for you to carry out the garbage?”

200 words

No comments:

Post a Comment