#MFFFC

MFFFC — The Amusement Park

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Gertrude reached over and squeezed Isadore’s hand. They were sitting on a bench at an amusement park and Gerty said to Izzy, “The grandchildren are having such a marvelous time enjoying all of the rides here in the park. I’m so happy our son and daughter invited us to join them today.”

“Yeah? With all these screaming and crying rugrats, I can barely hear myself think, much less hear what you’re saying to me. Some fun this is sitting on a bench with no shade in the sweltering sun,” Isadore said.

“Oh, come on, Izzy, don’t be such and old curmudgeon,” Gerty said. “Look at all of these marvelous rides. Remember how we used to love going on that big, wooden rollercoaster at Coney Island?”

“It hurts my knees just thinking about getting into that seat and the bouncing around makes my back hurt,” Izzy complained.

“How about that Tilt-a-Whirl ride and the one with the tall swings that go round and round at high speed?” Gerty said. “We used to laugh and have a great time in those rides.”

“If I got on any of those rides it would trigger my vertigo and I would probably end up throwing up all over you and everyone else.”

“The bumper cars, Izzy. They used to be your favorite ride,” Gerty said.

“Did you forget about me having to wear a neck brace for two weeks after that idiot teenager hit my bumper car from behind at full speed?” Izzy said.

“Oh, right. But surely you could still enjoy the giant Ferris wheel. That’s fairly tame,” Gerty said.

“Sitting on that hard seat would not be good for the hip replacement I had last year,” Izzy said.

“Izzy, isn’t there anything here at the amusement park that you enjoy?” Gerty asked.

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “I’ll enjoy it when our kids say it’s time to leave the amusement park and they pack up the grandkids into their minivan and we head home. The rugrats will be so exhausted that they’ll fall asleep right away in their car seats and then our son will drop us off at our house and I can lie down and take a nap.”

Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Photo credit: Grace Ho on Unsplash.

MFFFC — Ephemeral Enchantment

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With a wand in hand, the little girl blows her bubbles
Translucent orbs, reflecting rainbow hues
Floating boundlessly through the air
Soaring and swaying with the light breezes

The sunlight catches each iridescent bubble in flight
Creating a canvas for her imagination before her eyes
Magical paintings of joy in each shimmering sphere
A universe of dreams and fantasies to behold

Like ephemeral whispers of enchantment
Each bubble is a fleeting work of wondrous art
And then the bubbles, so delicate, burst apart
The little girl’s laughter fills one’s heart

Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Photo credit: Kayla Farmer on Unsplash.

MFFFC — The Dangerous Pet

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“Did you read about that crocodile that came crawling out of the city sewer system?” Veronica asked her best friend, Betty.

“Oh my, yes,” Betty said. “Someone illegally bought a baby croc in Florida and smuggled it to the city to keep it as his household pet. But then it got too big for his one-room apartment so the idiot took it out and put it down the sewer, where it feasted on rats and grew even larger.”

“That’s not the worst of it,” Veronica said. “The nearly full-grown crocodile wandered over to Central Park, only two blocks from where I live, and attacked a family that was having a picnic in the park. It grabbed the arm of a five-year-old girl and mangled it. They got her to the hospital and saved her life, but they had to amputate her left arm just below the shoulder.”

“Oh my god,” Betty said, “I didn’t know that. Oh, that poor little girl. I assume they caught the crocodile and destroyed it.”

“Actually,” Betty said,” the croc is alive and well. The little girl told her parents that she wanted to keep it as a pet. They are very wealthy, so they agreed. The family lives on my block and I see her, the one-armed little girl, all the time walking the crocodile on a leash in the gated yard around her house. I hear she named it ‘Tick-Tock’ after the crocodile in Disney’s Peter Pan.”

Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Photo credit: HuffPost Women.

MFFFC — The Precocious Child

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For Mai Ling’s fifth birthday, she received a paint set. Her parents made it clear that she should paint only on the paper provided with the paint set. “Mai Ling,” her father said, “you mustn’t paint on the walls or the floor. Do you understand Mai Ling?” Mai Ling nodded demurely.

It didn’t take long for Mai Ling to go through the entire pad of painting paper that came with the paint set. She asked her father to bring home another pad of painting paper, but he was a busy man and hadn’t gotten around to it. Mai tried to be patient and wait for her father to bring home more painting paper, but when you are a precocious five-year-old, patience was too lofty of a goal.

Mai Ling walked around her home looking for something perfect for her masterpiece, and she found the white wall in the family room to meet her criteria. Her mother was busy in the kitchen preparing dinner and her father was still at work and wouldnt be home for a few more hours. So Mai lined up her paints on the floor, being careful not to drip any on the hardwood, and started painting the plain white wall in the family room.

A few hours later, Mai’s mother came out of the kitchen to see what her precocious little girl was up to and saw that she had painted most of the lower half of the family room’s wall. Her mother was livid and sent Mai Ling to her room. When her father came home from work, Mai Ling’s mother met him at the door. He was carrying with him a new pad of painting paper. His wife grabbed him and led him into the family room and Mai Ling’s father gasped. “Go get her and bring her here,” he barked at his wife.

Mai’s mother marched her daughter from her bedroom to the family room and to say that Mai was scared of what her father would do to her would be an understatement. Her father stood silently staring at the wall for several minutes. Mai was literally shaking when she faw her father glaring at her. “May Ling, I want you to sit down on the floor in front of that wall you painted,” he said. Mai Ling dutifully did what her father said. He had never laid a hand on her in anger, but she feared, having blatantly disobeyed him, that is what he would do this time.

But both Mai Ling and her mother were surprised by what Mai Ling’s father did next. He took out his iPhone and stated taking photos of the painting Mai Ling had just painted on the wall. “Remarkable use of colors. Creatively blended. The variation of the brush strokes,” he muttered.

Then he directed Mai Ling to sit on the floor with a brush in hand and took her photo with her painting in the background. He looked at his wife. “One of my clients is an art critic. He says he is always on the lookout for bright young talent. I’m going to show him these photos.”

Then he reached down to Mai Ling and hugged her. “I think we may have an art prodigy living in our house.”

Written for Melissa’s Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge. Image credit: Anastasia Shuraeva at Pexels.

MFFFC — The Best Gift

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The best gift is not wrapped in ribbons or bows
It’s not made from precious metals like silver or gold
Nor diamonds that sparkle
Or Rubies red or emeralds green

It’s the warmth of a smile, the touch of a hand
The way you understand, the way you find your way
You are the sunrise after the darkest night
The clearing of clouds after the storm

No price tag is attached
No debt other than time is ever owed
It’s whispered in laughter, shared in tears
A presence that transcends the passing time

There lies a truth, simple and pure
A gift beyond measure more valuable than most
A treasure more precious, a love so true
My dearest friend, the best gift is you

Written for Melissa’s Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge. Image credit: Dakota Corbin on Unsplash.