Don’t Drink The Water

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You won’t believe what I saw when I put that sample of water under the scope. Please don’t drink anymore of that crap. It will kill you.

(138 characters)


Written for this week’s Twittering Tale challenge from Kat Myrman. Tell a tweet-length tale of 140 characters or fewer using the image prompt.

Built for Two

 

David’s eyes teared up when he saw the father and son riding past him on the tandem bicycle. It wasn’t that long ago that he and his own father were enjoying taking such rides together.

But then his father expectantly suffered a massive heart attack that took his life. David was devastated by the loss. His father and mother used to ride a tandem bike before David was old enough. Once David was big enough, his father would help him onto the back of the bike and the two of them would spend hours exploring the bicycle trails in various city parks.

Having the bike in their garage, though, was just too much for his mother to bear, so she sold it without telling David.

Seeing the father and son that day reminded David that the tandem bike, now gone forever, was his father’s prized possession.

David’s tears streamed down his cheeks.

(152 words)


Written for Priceless Joy’s August 8th FFfAW challenge.

The Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge is to write a flash fiction story of up to 150 words (± 25), based on the weekly photo prompt. Photo credit: Dorothy.

Memory Lane

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I was struggling when I first read Sandi’s Manic Monday challenge this week, which is to write a post using a song title, “Sentimental Journey.” I knew this would be a difficult prompt for me because I’m really not the sentimental type.

But then I read a post last night by Jerry Brotherton, aka, the Backyard Poet, and the synapses in my brain started firing. Jerry wrote about the past, saying that if he remembers it correctly, he wasn’t that fond of it at the time.

I commented on his post that when I think about the past, I tend to embellish the good memories and to diminish the not so good ones. It’s a mechanism that gives us a sense of nostalgia, a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life.

I think it’s common, when people think about the past, for it to become a sentimental journey of sorts. Well, it does for me, anyway.

When I think about my youth, recall my college days, remember how I first met the woman who eventually became my wife, or when my children were born, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. They’re fond memories.

I remember how great I felt when I got accepted to college and how elated I was when I was offered my first job after I graduated.

Of course there are also bad memories, like when my first dog died or when my mother and father passed away. Or that time when I got nabbed for shoplifting, when I got cut from the high school varsity football team, or when I was fired from my second job.

Yet the stronger, more vivid memories are the good ones. It’s those that are evoked when I hear certain songs or smell certain aromas. The not so great memories have faded over the decades to the extent that they’re getting very difficult to recall.

So for me, as I amble down memory lane, my trips are, for the most part, sentimental journeys.

(Notice that at the last possible minute, I snuck in today’s one-word prompt, “amble.” Pretty slick, huh?)