Kryptonite #FridayFictioneers

The man walked around the car, smiling slightly at the Kansas license plate still stuck in the corner of the rear view windshield.
“What brings you here, anyway?” asked the mover’s assistant.
“World peace,” the man replied.
The movers glanced at each other.
“A few thousand years too late,” the mover said. “Everything in order with the car?”
“Yes, it’s fine,” the man said as he folded himself into the driver’s side.
As soon as he reached an empty stretch of highway, he stopped, got out of the car, picked it up, and blasted off into the sky.

———

This is what I thought of when I saw the Kansas license plate in the picture.  Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

 

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The Revenant #FridayFictioneers

She lit the candle on the windowsill and bent to slip on her mud-caked shoes.
“What would happen I followed you?” I asked.
She plucked the candle out of its holder and looked back at me.  “Do you know the story about the goose, you know, the one who laid the golden eggs?”
“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.
“Then go on to bed, my love. See you in a few nights.”
She pressed her lips to mine before slipping into the dark.  I glanced at the other candle, sighed, and swept up the dirt she’d tracked in.

———

I return after two years!   I have also recruited my friend Brian, and I look forward to what he comes up with.  Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

 

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The Revenant #FridayFictioneers

She lit the candle on the windowsill and bent to slip on her mud-caked shoes.
“What would happen I followed you?” I asked.
She plucked the candle out of its holder and looked back at me.  “Do you know the story about the goose, you know, the one who laid the golden eggs?”
“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.
“Then go on to bed, my love. See you in a few nights.”
She pressed her lips to mine before slipping into the dark.  I glanced at the other candle, sighed, and swept up the dirt she’d tracked in.

———

I return after two years!   I have also recruited my friend Brian, and I look forward to what he comes up with.  Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

 

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Pens and Swords #poetrybyglossarch

Pens and Swords

 

Two Legs

Aren’t Balanced

Tend to Topple, so

Keep a Pen

or Sword

Handy

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The Comeback

Here’s how it happened: I was on the ladder fixing a gutter when the wind gusted and I ended up standing at the edge of an old canal, and this boat glides up all weathergray and brown, riding high, filled with people.
“Going back?” asked the pilot.
“Sure,” I said.
“Step aboard, then.”
I did as he said.  The crowd shifted to make room.  The boat did not rock.
We slid down the canal till we reached the ocean.  I turned to ask where were were going but I realized I was alone.  Then, brightness: a newborn child crying.

———-

My daughter sleeps quietly in her swaddle and I watch her, Godlike, on the baby monitor.  Oh, and by the way: whoever came up with the metaphor “sleeping like a baby” clearly never had children.  Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

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The Sparrow #poetrybyglossarch

I open the window and

a little sparrow rushes in

with the breeze.

 

I reach towards the window –

Surely this bird

won’t be missed.

 

Wait, my wife says,

Let him go.

Think of the little children

Up high, beyond our reach

Flashing down to Earth

Faster, even, than lightning.

 

The window stays open and

the sparrow slips back out

quick and light as breath.

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Broken and Loud #FridayFictioneers

The strangest thing is how natural this all comes now, he thought as he considered the red splash of geraniums in the courtyard.  See how I’ve set the table beside me, he said to himself.  It’s as if the place settings are a field of battle: each regiment of forks, spoons, napkins, plates perfectly aligned against the enemy opposite them.  And the clothes. See how well I wear them as I pause before the guests arrive.  Look around you.  See how I’ve written my life in black and white: a broken record, playing broken, and loud.

———-

I’ve joined the Twittersphere as @glossarch!  Follow me, I promise I won’t lead you astray.  As for the story above, it’s based on a poem I coauthored with my friend Jay Reidy.  That last line is based off a brilliant edit he made to my original version.  Maybe I’ll post the poem someday.   Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

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