December Flash Fiction
snowflake, tradition, box
snowflake
I’m adding gas to my lawnmower when my neighbor waves.
“Looks like snow,” he rambles, as he does when he’s bored. I shrug and push the mower into the yard to pull the starter. It roars to life as something tiny and cold settles on the bridge of my nose.
tradition
Lucia watched the giggling maids from under lowered eyelids as her nostrils twitched with the musky stink of the marigolds they brought into the tent.
She would leave this behind when the sun set over the warm waves, when her groom arrived to lead her into a life beyond. There was nothing to fear from marriage to a god, she was told, but previous brides never came back with the same reassurance.
When the maids left, Lucia crept from the tent and into the foamy sea. She would swim, far and away from the tradition that served everyone but her.
box
The box under the tree is still there after New Year’s, when everything else related to Christmas is packed away. My daughter pats it longingly, and I tell her to come out from beneath the fraying branches.
The fake pine needles flake off in her hair as she reluctantly complies, the tears in her eyes proof I am without comfort to share. I bought the gift knowing it would outlive the recipient, and now, it is only a sad reminder.
these microdoses were inspired by prompts from Miguel S.at The Fiction Dealer, and previously shared as individual Notes. Thanks for the inspiration, Miguel!
Read more of my short fiction:
November Flash Fiction
echo My grandfather pushes me towards the swings on the playground, mumbling as he lights a cigarette. When the echo burbles along the cracked asphalt, I shout, dancing away from the willowy streak.
I don’t drink coffee anymore but I adore matcha. You can buy me one or just click over and take a look at some random photos and snag a free black cat lined notebook page PDF to print or use with any PDF annotation app.
Fantastic story "bursts", as I like to think of flash/micro fiction. Tradition really was a rollercoaster packed into such a short space.
'Box' got me... right in the cockles. I hope none of the other coffee shop patrons notice my increased rate of blinking or the uncomfortable way I shift in my chair.