Yesterday I finished my entery for the 2013 Spring Flash Fiction contest for WOW-Women on Writing. I wrote a piece for the Winter contest and at the last minute decided to not use it. I sat down and frantically wrote, Big White Sunglasses in record time. I thought I would use the story I orginally wrote for the Spring conest . . . NO, again in the 11th hour I wrote another story. This story was based off an idea from the original, so no waste!
The 2013 Summer Flash Fiction contest will be starting in a few weeks if anyone would like to give Flash Fiction a try. So far it has been an open theme, with a word count of 250-750 words, no more, no less.
www.wow-womenonwriting.com Men can enter too!
They have not announce the winners for the 2013 Winter contest yet, it should be any day now.
Today I decided to post my 2013 Winter entery. I'm not holding my breath that I won. This was my first EVER attempt at creative writing. I encourage everyone to give Flash Fiction a try.
And now here it is my 2013 Winter Flash Fiction entry......
Big White Sunglasses
Big white sunglasses; everyone should own a pair sometime in their life. When I slide mine on I become a different person. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. I figure if the windows are covered, the soul is free to play. Today the sun is shining and that makes it a very good day to wear sunglasses.
With my sunglasses on I don’t see dirty dishes or laundry piles. I just walk out my front door. The overgrown yard is not my problem. Yes, it’s going to be a good day, I can feel it. My first stop this morning is Dr. Grams for my annual exam. Not at the top of any girls list of fun but here we go.
Entering the doctor’s office I wrap my arms tight against my body and hang my head. Quietly I let the receptionist know I’m here. Soundlessly I take a seat and place a magazine on my lap. From behind my sunglasses I sneak peeks at the other women in the waiting room. One is clearly ready to deliver her bundle of joy any minute; she takes no notice of me. Another woman is doing her best to keep her toddler from wondering in my direction. The middle age woman on my left is trying to see if I have a black eye under my sunglasses. I sit sullen, perfectly still, never turning a magazine page. When my name is called I rise slowly and take very careful steps into the exam room.
My next stop is the bank. Before I go in, I fluff my hair, straighten my sunglasses and pull out my cell phone. The minute my feet hit the lobby floor, I let out a loud, “Gloria, I’m running a bit late.” With the cell phone at my ear I hand the teller a check and ask for large bills. The woman is small with dull brown hair that, even through dark lenses, I can tell she dyes herself. Incredibly enough, her clothes match her hair; dull as dishwater this one. As I wait, I talk into my phone, “Jamie always finds me a table no matter how last minute I call. . . .okay . . . let’s order champagne and celebrate . . . what? . . . that we are alive.” I watch the bills being counted out and think this woman could use a pair of white sunglasses. Should I leave her mine? No, they would be sooo wasted on her. I smile, pick up the money and assure Gloria I’m on my way.
Back on the street I stroll to the next block and climb the steps of a gray nondescript building. Inside I open the second door on the left and pay my electric bill.
Where to next? I need coffee. New coffee shop on the corner it is. Most of the tables in the metro-trendy coffeehouse are empty; I’ve missed the morning rush. I scan the room. Hipsters, with the bored looks of people with no place to be, camped at a corner table. Three older women are studying the massive menu above the counter. Not taking off my sunglasses, I hastily push passed the women and ask, “Do you mind terribly if I cut in front? I’m late for work.” To the barista, I bark off, “Skinny caramel macchiato,” and toss five dollars on the counter. Outside on the street, I carefully remove the lid. Having no idea what I ordered, I tentatively take a sip. Hmm, turns out to be pretty good.
Heading home I see people circling two cars; one car has a smashed taillight. A young mother with a newborn looks upset, while an elderly couple repeatedly apologizes. I take a deep breath, stand up straight and pull a wallet out of my purse. While flashing my
police badge I ask, “Can I be of some
help?” “Yes,” shoots back the young woman. After inspecting the damage and inquiring
as to their physical conditions, I determine the accident to be minor. My
advice, exchange information and let the insurance companies handle the rest.
As I wrap up the investigation my cell phone rings. I signal the group that I
have to take the call and walk further down the street. Fakewood City
It’s Meg; she wants to know about my audition. I giggle, and gush. “Its tonight, I’m so excited! It’s been just ages since I’ve done any acting!”
If you know me personally or follow my blog, I bet you can guess where I got my inspiration. If not, here is a hint.
My girl Eva.