Flash Fiction #05: M for Mocking

As the year 2018 draws to a close, I am looking at my various Flash Fiction pieces that I wrote throughout the year, but never edited. When I began writing in earnest four years ago, I never thought that there was so much more to it than putting pen to paper (figuratively speaking). I soon learned that editing and revising is just as important (if not more) and quite challenging. But it doesn’t matter that it took me half a year to sit down and actually edit this flash fiction piece; what matters is that I did edit it. So, without further ado, here it is: 

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Mum, No. 

There’s one sentence that my Mum is particularly fond of: “Are you really going to wear that to school?” And she says exactly that as I walk into the kitchen in the morning to get some cereal.

I turn around to her. “What’s wrong with it?”

My mum sighs, shaking her head. “Honey,” she says, “why don’t you wear that nice dress I bought you?”

“Mum, no.” I empty some cereal into a bowl, then pour milk over it.

“Why not? You’d look so cute in it.”

I frown. “I’d look ridiculous. And this is much more comfortable.”

My mum eyes me sidelong, then grabs her purse. “You know, it’s not always about being comfortable,” she says. “Sometimes you need to dress a certain way.”

“Why?” I shovel a spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

“Because it shows others what kind of person you are.” She straightens her skirt, then picks the car keys off the table. “I’ll be home late tonight, but there’s food in the freezer.”

“Are you seeing that Gary guy again?”

My mum purses her lips. “His name is Garret.” She comes round the kitchen counter and pecks me on the cheek. I rub the spot with the back of my hand. “See you later, bug. And please change that sweater!”

“Sure!” I call after her. “Have fun with Gary!”

I finish my breakfast, walk into the hallway and stop in front of the mirror. The light here highlights my newest piece of clothing in all its glory. Every single sequin that shapes the mocking bird adorning my front. A beaded eye twinkles back at me.

“Sorry, mother,” I say, “but I am really going to wear that to school.”

Flash Fiction #04: A for Attraction

New Year’s resolutions can be difficult to achieve. The same is true for my writers group’s challenge to write one piece of flash fiction each month. We don’t always hand these pieces in on time (sometimes we even skip a month), but neither of us has given up. We keep going and we keep writing. Because we all have something in common: we want to tell a story. Enjoy!

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A Night at the Pier

My friend Stacy said it was the place to be on a Friday night and so I went with her. But once we got to the Santa Monica Pier, everything was as usual.

“No,” Stacy said when I pointed that out. “Because today is the day you’re finally going to ride the rollercoaster.”

I took a step away from her. “I certainly won’t,” I said. “I’m getting a churro.” I turned to walk away, but Stacy grabbed my arm.

“Listen,” she said, “my friend Meghan owed me, so I asked her to bring her brother tonight.”

“Jamie?”

Stacy grinned back at me. “Yes, and they’ll both be over at the rollercoaster in about 10 minutes. So, what do you say?”

I bit down on my lower lip, glancing over at the rollercoaster. Tiny cars with people were whizzing along the tracks. I swallowed hard. “I guess we should at least say hello, right?”

Jamie and Meghan were indeed waiting for us at the ticket window. Jamie welcomed me with a smile and a “’sup?”. I croaked back a hello.

Stacy bought four tickets and then we were in the queue. I stared up at the steel monster.

“Afraid?” Jamie asked.

I blushed. “No.”

“There’s no need to be,” he said.

The four of us would get on the next ride. The car drew up into the station, some of the passengers were laughing, others looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“You coming?” Jamie asked. He even held out his hand to me.

One of the passengers getting off the ride laughed. “Man, I felt like I was gonna pee my pants back there!”

“Come on,” Jamie said to me. “You can do it.”

I reached out for his hand and opened my mouth to respond.

But I puked on his new vans instead.

Once again I am posting my flash fiction piece for March fashionably late (editing is a hassle, let me tell you!). No one ever said that a writer’s life is easy, but I love every part of it anyway 🙂 This little piece below is set in a bookstore in Chicago called Myopic Books. It’s one of my favorite book stores of all times and I miss it a lot. If you’re ever there, go check it out.

Update: You can also find MT’s flash here.

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Flash Fiction #03: M for Myopic

 

Books don’t judge

Some people like books. Others adore them.

And then there is my little sister.

“Quick! They’re not open much longer,” she says.

We hurry toward a store called Myopic Books. A bell rings out as we enter. All walls are lined with shelves, displaying hundreds of books. My sister grabs me by the hand and pulls me through the store.

“This must be one hell of a book,” I say.

“You bet it is.”

We stop in front of a shelf that looks like any other in the store. A label below reads Fantasy/Sci-Fi. My sister pulls a book down and shoves it right under my face.

“Do you see?” she asks. Her eyes are huge.

I stare down at the book. It’s one of the Harry Potter’s, perhaps the first one. “What am I supposed to see?”

“The cover,” my sister says. “It’s limited edition, they only made a few thousand copies.”

“So? You’ve got all of them at home, don’t you?”

“Yes, but not this one!” She tightens her grip on the book until her knuckles turn white. “But I’ve already spent my birthday money and I was wondering…”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously, you’re begging me for money to buy a book you already own?”

She groans. “I knew you’d act like that!” She puts the book back and stomps off. I catch up with her right outside the store.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I say. “But, you know, you do spend a lot of time with books. Maybe, just once, you want to go outside and hang out with some other kids…”

Arms crossed in front of her chest, my sister glares at me. “You don’t get it,” she says.

“Then explain it to me.”

She bites her lips. Her eyes shimmer with tears. “It’s just…”

“Yeah?”

“The other kids are mean,” she says, her lower lip wobbling. “But books would never judge me.” A first tear trickles down her cheeks.

Before she can say anything else, I dash back into the store. They are about to close. But they give me another minute and then I step back out.

My sister hasn’t moved. She looks up with a smile. “You bought it?”

“Of course.” I hand her the book and she hugs it to her chest.

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Here’s a little peek a this book store. Apparently I was more focused on the books than taking decent pictures 😉