Airborne : FFftPP

Airborne

I’d waited years for this day but it hasn’t been in my thoughts for a long time.

The accident saw to that.

I’d jumped into the car but they’d had to extract me from it through the mangled bodywork.

I’d left behind more than just my limbs.

My carefree childhood and all my aspirations were left behind too.

I’d emerged permanently diminished and just a shadow of who I used to be.

So you’d brought me, my comrades, to the airfield to admire the restoration and pointed out the features we’d worked on together. Those long weekends of beers and barbecues and summer sweat.

One beer too many before the trip home, that nasty numbing truth, the wrong that could never be righted, the weight that refused to be lifted.

The plane looks so different from the wheelchair and I duck as you push me under the wing.

Then you circle around me and with your strong friendly hands, you lift me from the chair and into the passenger seat.

You say, with one voice, “No need for legs to fly!”

Then, that satisfying noise as we take off and leave, searching for different perspectives.

I hope you enjoy this weeks Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Please do go over and read the other entries and why not add your own. It really is a fun challenge.

The Secret : Friday Fictioneers

The Secret

The doors stood defiant in the gloom. A padlock and rusty chain barred their route.

Sally (aged 8) and Becca (aged 7 3/4) pulled at the chain, but the small gap was only large enough for a stinky rodent or perhaps a mangy cat.

They circled to the side window. Sally wiped away some grime and they peered in, holding trembling hands.

They caught their breath as they spied the hanging rolling pins and creamy underwear.

“Itsss tttrue,” Becca shivered.

“Yes! Frau Kinderessen chases naughty girls and hangs them up until they disappear!” Sally replied.

A twig snapped.

“Run!!”

This weeks Friday Fictioneers photo prompt is totally different from last week!

My thanks to Mary Shipman for her photo taken, as we can see, in 2013.

I was fortunate to have a short masterclass from Rochelle in the comments so here is an alternative to the second paragraph. As a lot of you have already read the story I won’t change the published version.

Sally and Becca reached up on tiptoes and pulled on the chain, but the small gap was only large enough for a stinky rodent or perhaps a mangy cat.

 

Under the Chandeliers : FFfAW

Under the Chandeliers

He surveyed the dining room.

The candles were lit and the glasses scintillated like diamonds under the pale light of the chandeliers.

Even the dining room in that TV series was better lit, he thought, but he didn’t suppose that the other diners would be complaining. It was after all one of the most popular restaurants in Edinburgh, although clearly a case of style over substance.

She turned the pages of her menu back and forth, tutting and frowning. She obviously couldn’t read French but here with the romantic sheen of the dining room, it wouldn’t matter.

He was sure she would make the same order as the last time they were reunited in the dining room.

She was petite and he looked down at her from across the table. The highlights of her long blonde hair caught the candlelight and framed her delicately powdered features. Her eyes sparkled and her lips were the deepest of reds; plump and inviting.

He wanted to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand, but restrained himself as he knew it would be grossly inappropriate.

He just smiled and waited patiently.

“Is Madame ready to order?” He inquired, with that elegant Edinburgh accent he had acquired over years of service.

This week I’ve written a story to my own photo prompt for this week’s  Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers which is strange!

T. Rex : Sunday Photo Fiction

T. Rex

My first love Deborah and I used to get it on. We were living the teenage dream.

“I love to boogie!” she would say, “I was born to boogie!!”

She left me for the Jeepster.

“At least he gives me Hot Love, which is a lot more than you gave me.”

She extinguished our light of love. I was miserable.

After the jeepster she bedded a guy known as Telegram Sam. It was more of a solid gold easy action sexual relationship than a hearts and flowers romance, if you see what I mean.

I still felt lost and abandoned and almost made out with a London Boy called the Groover, but realised that guys weren’t really my thing.

Then that whole era faded away.

Deborah married a chartered accountant called Marc and I met you, my dreamy lady, at the zoo and took you to see the Peregrine falcons.

“Shall we ride a white swan on the boating lake?” You asked, and the band played Rock on. “Let’s celebrate summer together!”

We were the children of the revolution. A 20th century boy and girl.

Sunday Photo Fiction is back again! How many song titles can you find in my story?

Photo prompt is © A mixed bag, 2014.

Childhood : Literary Lion

Childhood

Danny was a beautiful boy.

His parents would proudly say, “that’s our boy!”

Although he went to a school for boys, all he thought about was the girls.

The girls fancied Danny. They would say, “Oh boy, he’s cute!”

He wanted their company but they pushed him away.

The boys couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to become one of the boys.

They pushed him away.

Each night Danny’s Mum put her little boy to bed.

“Goodnight darling Danny”

Then one night, he said, “I’d rather be Danielle.”

She replied softly, “I know darling; I know.”

Danielle was a beautiful girl.

Yay! A chance click in my browser led me back to Literary Lion to discover that it has become a monthly challenge. I’m so happy because I have a strong link to the challenge as it was one of the first challenges I undertook last year.

So naturally I’ve  put it back into my calendar.

This month, then, I’m two weeks late so I’m sorry for the late entry.

Thanks Laura. I’m so happy it’s back!

This months challenge by the way is Boys.