Y - Young Adult - #AtoZChallenge

"I just can't get going on this assignment," complained Carl.

Carl's dad, always supportive, asked, "What's the trouble, champ?"

"In my Creative Writing class, we are often challenged to try to write in a particular genre. And I've had some fun writing horror stories, children's stories, fables and others. This one I just can't wrap my mind around."

His dad leaned in close. "What were you assigned this time?"

Carl threw his hands up in the air, "Young Adult."

"What's the problem? YA is one of the most popular genres out there right now. Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Ready Player One, Maze Runner, Divergent, Ender's Game, A Fault in Our Stars, Percy Jackson. There is no end to Young Adult literature."

Carl shook his head. "I'm a fan of almost all of those, but this is a 'genre' challenge. Those stories you listed are of the genres fantasy, science fiction, mythology, dystopian, and romance. Those are genres. Young adult is simply the audience the stories are intended for. It is not a genre. So, when the teacher says she wants a Young Adult story, what does she want? YA thriller? YA romance? YA horror? YA dystopian? YA supernatural dystopian romance? I need more direction."

Carl's dad stood up to leave the room. "I understand. I bet you could just pick one and run with it. Your teacher gave you a lot of freedom here.

"I guess."

Carl's dad patted him on the back, "Either way, it's going to have to wait until we get back. We need more supplies and we need to clear the security gate for your mom. She's on her way home and I saw a couple of radiated hounds lurking around. You take the gunner and I'll handle the flamethrower. Gear up."

"I'll be right there, dad. And don't forget, on the way back I'll need to swing by the compound to rescue my girlfriend from that techno cult."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is Y for Young Adult.

I could not come up with any genres that started with Y. Every person I talked to said Young Adult. I just couldn't do it for the reason Carl complained about in the story. Young Adult changes the tone to match the intended audience, but I can't condone it being a genre all by itself. So, this is what we got.

X - Crossover - #AtoZChallenge

Remember that movie where John Travolta plays a 1950's greaser and he has to sing in almost every scene. He wasn't much of a singer, but coming off of Saturday Night Fever, we knew he could dance. So, he gets the girl he's trying to woo to go to prom with him and things go well for a while until he starts dancing with Beatrix Kiddo at Jack Rabbit Slims. It was a good night, but he learns she is an addict, stabs her in the chest and puts her in the car. Then Susan Sarandon jumps in the car and they drive off into the desert for a lesbian fantasy life of no regrets until the car plummets into a ravine in the Grand Canyon. Maverick and Goose (flying inverted) see the car fly past their jet and mistake it for enemy aircraft. Maverick (played by Will Smith) spins the jet around accidentally ejecting and killing Goose in the process. In anguish from losing his best friend, he shoots the already falling car and then jumps out to attack it physically. When he gets to the wreckage, one of the women with a long ugly face (disfigured from the crash) comes out and he punches her in the face. Only to discover she was not disfigured, it was only Sarah Jessica Parker. He throws her in a sleeping bag and drags her across the desert until he runs into Uncle Eddie from Christmas Vacation who takes him to meet the creepy scientist from The Fly, Seth Brundle. Brundle takes her back to this crazy dinosaur park where Newman from Seinfeld works as a mailman and they nurse her back to health before Starlord uses her as bait to train velociraptors to steal the Infinity Stone.

I love that movie. The wrong movies get Oscars.

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is X for Crossover.

I know that's not really a genre, but can you come up with one?

W - Western - #AtoZChallenge

 The trip home was always Bully's favorite part of each year. After a nearly 700-mile, two-month long drive getting his cattle to market, he could now relax and enjoy the beauty of this land he crossed every spring.

Every year, he paid the men who helped him get the cattle from Texas to Kansas (where they were worth five to eight times the Texas price) and released them to go find work elsewhere. He would make the long trip back home alone. He could make it back in a couple of weeks when he didn't have over 2,000 head of cattle to worry about and men to keep in line.

The obstacles he encountered on the way north to Kansas were barely an inconvenience when tackled alone on the way back. The Native Americans didn't even charge him to cross their land when he wasn't coming through with a large crowd disrupting their planting seasons.

Bully spotted a tree with a wide spread of branches right next to a creek. He didn't usually like camping out so close to creeks. Nocturnal animals coming out to drink would sometimes get too close when he was sleeping. However, there was no shortage of wood for a fire here. Keeping a good flame going throughout the night generally kept them away.

He set up his simple camp and fried some skillet camp bread to go with his dried beef. He prepped his coffee for brewing in the morning and gathered some more wood to keep the fire going all night.

Once satisfied, he laid back on his pack against the tree and listened to the evening sounds of Oklahoma as he drifted off to sleep. He loved this time of year.

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is W for Western.

V - Vampire - #AtoZChallenge

The doorbell rang and Brad dove under the weighted blanket on the couch.

"Okay," he yelled.

The front door opened and sunlight flooded the room as his wife bounced in. Carla closed the door behind her shrouding the room in darkness again.

Brad had been a vampire for just under six months, but they had their routine down. He basically kept the same sleeping schedule as his wife and, due to the pandemic, he already had an online job. They just kept all the curtains and blinds shut tight and Carla had to do all their daytime running.

Brad came out from under his blanket. She kissed him and smiled. 

Brad stepped into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, "What'd you bring me?"

"I got over a liter of beef blood from the butcher today…and I got you surprise."

Brad's eyes got big. "Really, let's see it."

Carla pulled out a small package wrapped in aluminum foil and set it in front of Brad.

Brad looked up at her, "Is this from Frankie's?"

Carla nodded with excitement.

He opened it quickly to find a chili cheese dog covered in onions. He leaned over the food and inhaled deeply. "You know, it's kind of mean when you do this to me. I love the smell, but I can't eat it."

Carla laughed, "It's not mean. I'm going to eat it and I brought it home so you could smell it first."

Brad pushed it to her side of the table, "That's almost worse."

"Hey, don't give me a hard time. I already gave up garlic for you. I've sacrificed enough."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is V for Vampire.

U - Urban Legend - #AtoZChallenge

 About 25 years ago in the next town over, a woman was helping her husband home from the hospital. He had throat cancer surgery and was very weak, but was released to continue his rest in the comfort of his own home.

As they parked in their driveway, a man in filthy clothes approached their car to ask for money. She waved the beggar off as she went around to the passenger side to assist her husband.

The beggar, undeterred, continued to ask.

"Just a few dollars. I've almost got enough for a cheap room tonight."

She tried to maneuver around him, but he blocked their path.

"Come on. What's a few dollars to someone who lives in a nice house like this."

She could feel the heat rising in her face. "Can't you see I'm tied up with something right now. I said no. Go away."

The man stepped forward. "I can help you get him inside." He reached out to take her husband's arm. Her husband raised his cane and poked the beggar in the chest. Due to the surgery he couldn't talk, but he made an angry grunt as he pointed his cane to the street.

The beggar threw his hands up. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint. A few dollars from your wallet to help someone wouldn't even be noticed, but I see you're not that kind of people." He turned and continued down the street.

The woman got her husband comfortable in the house and made a call to the police to report the pushy beggar in her yard. They told her they already had someone in the area because they had received several calls about him.

She spent the afternoon preparing the living room for her husband's comfort and getting dinner ready. She had an easy microwave meal, but he could only drink a protein and vitamin mixture since his throat could not handle solid foods yet.

After dinner, she helped him up the stairs to bed. She got him settled in and went back down stairs to relax a little and get some alone time. It had been a stressful week. She poured herself a glass of wine and turned on a reality show.

After a few minutes, she heard a knock at the door. However, there was no one there. She was sure she had heard it, but dismissed it as imagination since she was so tired. Soon, she heard it again. As before, no one was there. She yelled into the darkness, "I'm not in the mood for this tonight."

She downed the rest of her glass and went to bed.

She crept quietly into the dark room and felt her way to the bed. She did not want to wake her husband. She got comfortable and then noticed the window was wide open. She knew her husband had a tendency to get hot, but he usually turned on the fan. She got up to close the window and switch the fan on, but it wouldn't work. She discovered that the plug had come loose and it was behind the dresser. In his tired state, he probably didn't want to mess with it. She reached behind the dresser and plugged it back in.

She crawled back into bed and gave her husband a gentle kiss on the back of his head. He gave a quiet grunt of approval. She was soon asleep.

A few hours later, she awoke to the sound of someone pounding on her front door. In her exhausted state, she shook her husband in fright and he made a few questioning grunts. She suddenly remembered his condition and said, "Never mind. Sorry. I got this." She grabbed her bathrobe and ran downstairs. She could see her neighbor Carol peeking in through the door as she frantically knocked.

She opened the door and Carol grabbed her arms. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She looked at Carol in confusion. "What…Yeah, we're fine. What are you talking about?"

Carol started to answer when two police cars and an ambulance pulled up. Carol ran out to meet them yelling "He's lying over here" and pointed around to the side of the house. The officers went around as the paramedics grabbed their gear.

She started to step outside to find out what was happening, but decided to explain the excitement to her husband first. She ran up the stairs and turned on the bedroom light. She screamed when she saw all the blood on the floor next to her husband's side of the bed. And her husband was gone.

She ran to the bathroom, but it was empty. She ran back to the bed and noticed a note on her pillow.

She picked it up as two policemen came bursting into the room. It read, "Thank you for the good night kiss, but a couple of dollars would have been better for everyone."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is U for Urban Legend.

T - Time Travel - #AtoZChallenge

I had never been a good test taker.

I didn't have a learning disability or anything, but it never failed. No matter how well I knew the material or how prepared I was, my anxiety would get the best of me and I would screw everything up. I knew today would be no different.

I arrived early to allow myself to get seated and try to soothe my nerves before class. It always seemed to work better than just walking in and starting. When I stepped into the classroom, I saw three of my classmates huddled in the corner of the room. My best friend Brian waved and called me over.

I said, "Sorry, no. I have to prepare."

Mr. Grayson snapped at Brian. "Turn around. Face the wall."

I guessed Brian was in trouble. Not really surprising. I looked forward to hearing the story later. I sat at my desk, closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

As I concentrated on being calm, students filled the room and took their seats. I ignored the chatter and stayed in my quiet mental state.

I was so relaxed, I thought I might drift off to sleep, but I was jolted back to reality when I heard a desk topple over and a couple of people screamed. I spun around to see what happened and Sara was sprawled across her desk scrambling to get up. Mr. Grayson shouted at her above the commotion of the laughing students, "Miss Nussbaum, join the others in the corner."

Sara was obviously embarrassed and quietly crossed the room to the corner. She placed a tennis ball on Mr. Grayson's desk as she passed. My buddy Brian tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, "I guess Sara and I didn't do so good."

I spun around to look at him. He had a big smile on his face, but lifted his hands with shrugged shoulders. Brian never cared much about his GPA. I looked over in the corner again and Brian was still there. If he was in both places, then he was right. He didn't do so well. 

Just then, Sara walked in to class. A few people pointed her out to herself over in the corner. Her shoulders slumped and she shuffled to her still overturned desk and started cleaning up.

Mr. Grayson quieted the class. "Alright, let's begin. You have all worked hard this semester and should be well-versed on time-travel dynamics. Now it's time to see how well you can apply those principles to practical use. Today's task is pretty simple."

I could already feel my heartbeat accelerating. The teacher saying it was simple preemptively made me feel stupid for when I inevitably failed.

Mr. Grayson continued, "Last week during the school assembly, I was in this room implementing the test you are about to take. I had 16 tennis balls. One for each of you in this class. Every five minutes, I placed a ball on this desk. If the previous ball was still there I removed it and placed the next numbered ball.

In a few minutes, each of you will come forward and draw a number from the box. The number you draw is listed on the chart I have on the board. That chart will tell you what time your ball was on my desk last week. Remember, each ball was only on the desk for five minutes. The ball is your target.

After you draw your number and check the chart for your target time, return to your seat. Do not jump until you are instructed. Everyone will jump together once the entire class has their assigned ball number. For full marks on this test, you will jump back to last week landing in this classroom during your assigned five-minute window. You will pick up the ball from my desk with your designated number and you will jump back seated at your desk precisely one minute after you left. Any questions?"

John raised his hand, "How do we know which ball to grab?"

Mr. Grayson answered, "What number did you draw?"

"Seven," John showed his slip of paper.

Mr. Grayson took the chart off the wall. "There was only one ball on my desk at a time. John, number seven was on my desk from precisely 2:15 to 2:20 last Friday afternoon. If you arrived at the correct time, that ball was there. If there is a different numbered ball on the desk, then you arrived at the wrong time and I will not permit you to take it. I was seated at my desk throughout the entire test, so expect to see me there."

Another student spoke up, "So, you already know who jumped correctly. Right?"

Mr Grayson smiled, "I know the first part. Jumping to last week. But I don't know who jumped back to today correctly. This test involves two jumps and it is the jump back where the most mistakes are made."

Suddenly John appeared in front of Mr. Grayson's desk holding a tennis ball with a large number 7 on it.

Mr. Grayson took the ball and thanked John. "Now, go stand in the corner with the others." He then looked at the John who was still seated. "Well, we know you got the first half correct, don't we?"

My buddy Brian from the corner shouted to John, "You did better than me. I didn't even land in the right day."

Mr. Grayson followed up Brian's statement. "I'm surprised you even found your way back."

The class laughed. Mr. Grayson could be fun at times.

"Alright, class. Set your chronometers. For your coordinates, I want you to jump to the same chair you are sitting in now. You are going back to last Friday afternoon at your assigned time. After your jump, step to my desk, retrieve the ball if it has the correct number. Then, return to your desk and jump back to today. Jump to exactly one minute after you left. Every seat in this classroom should be empty for one minute. You will be graded on this. For your return jump, remember what you have learned. You have to account for temporal displacement, how long you have been gone, and the Coriolis effect. All of these have to be considered for your calculations to be correct. Are we ready?"

THREE…TWO…ONE…JUMP!!!

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is T for Time Travel.

S - Science Fiction - #AtoZChallenge

Sambor was still groggy from his reawakening. He had been in cryostasis for 73 years and wasn't entirely convinced he hadn't aged during that time. He knew the effects would wear off in the next 24 hours, but it didn't make the present any more pleasant. Coffee didn't seem to be helping.

Sambor was one of about a dozen maintenance engineers aboard the ship. The ship ran on autopilot and the entire crew was in cryostasis for the 639-year voyage. However, general maintenance still needed to be done occasionally. Approximately, every 25 years one of the engineers would be awakened for systems checks and routine maintenance if needed. If there were no problems, it would take ten to twelve days to complete all the tasks required before going back into cryostasis to sleep until your turn came up again in another couple of centuries.

One person awake at a time was protocol unless a problem was detected. The severity of the problem determined how many others should be awakened to address it. This was Sambor's first rotation for this trip and he prayed for a minor complication. Ten days alone was a long time. Having another person or two to talk to would be welcome.

As he poured himself a second cup of coffee, he pulled up the display to go over the ship's diagnostics. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. And the reports from the two engineers in rotation before him showed no problems for either of them. It looked like it was going to be a long and lonely awakening.

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is S for Science Fiction.

R - Romance - #AtoZChallenge

Logan removed his suit jacket. He was burning up. He started to loosen his tie, but changed his mind. There was no point in getting getting dressed up to look nice, if he wore his clothes sloppily. Plus, he knew it was just nerves. He took a long sip of cold water to try to calm and cool himself.

Amy had called to let him know she would be late and the waitress kept coming by to see if he wanted to order anything. It was a busy night and they seemed to want to clear the table if no food was being ordered.

"She'll be here soon," he insisted to the waitress. "I'll have a Stella Artois while I wait."

Logan figured ordering something other than water would satisfy the wait staff for a while. He had wanted to avoid alcohol tonight to keep his wits together. Tonight had to go perfectly. He reached to pat his jacket pocket to double-check the ring was still there. He had a moment of panic before he remembered he had removed his jacket, but that pat did show him that he was sweating through his shirt. He put the jacket back on to hide his nervous sweat stains.

He and Amy had been talking about marriage and their future for the last year. He had no doubt she would say yes, but making it official was a big step. Tonight was a big night. He hoped she would arrive before he melted into the floor. Where was she?

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is A for Adventure.

Q - Quest - #AtoZChallenge

Before stepping into the hot sun, Alec surveyed the scene before him. The key could be anywhere here, but he had no more specifics.

Alec checked under every rock that appeared to have disturbed soil around it. He frantically checked around every tree and scanned the ground before him. He knew time was running out and he tried not to panic. All would be lost if he could not complete his mission quickly.

He could hear the grumbling growing on the other side of the wall. He knew holding off their wrath meant securing the key before all was ruined.

Feeling the heat beating down on his head, Alec dropped to his knees and cursed the sky. Lowering his head, he saw a slight glint of sunlight reflect off the floor of a structure before him. He dove after it and gave a cry of triumph. It was the lost key. All was saved.

Alec ran to the wall to declare his victory.

"Hey, guys. I found the key to the freezer. Bruno had taken it to his doghouse, but looks like he chewed your bacon strip key chain off. I'm tossing it over the wall. Someone get those beers on ice before more of them get warm. I'll be right over."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is Q for Quest.

P - Paranormal - #AtoZChallenge

Crystal nervously got out of her boyfriend's car. She couldn't take her eyes off his house and the fear was growing as she pictured herself going inside.

"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?" Brian asked.

It must have been showing how scared she was, but she also felt silly. She chose not to tell him what was going on inside her head. Plus, she knew this was an important night. She couldn't blow it because of her paranoia.

Brian slid his arm around her waist. "It's going to be okay. They'll love you. Especially Mom."

He bounced up the stairs and opened the door for her. He reached for Crystal's hand and gave her a warm smile. She felt a bit embarrassed and took his hand. He led her into the living room and she froze as soon as she stepped inside.

She was panicked as her eyes darted around the room. The brown-green shag carpet, the painting of the dead tree hanging on the wall, the old green recliner, the console TV, and the bookshelf filled with plants. It was all the same. This couldn't be happening.

Her eyes snapped to the other end of the living room as Brian's smiling mother appeared with her arms spread wide. "Oh, good. You're here. It is so nice to finally meet you." She came in close for a hug, but Crystal jumped back, her eyes wide with fear.

"No. No. No. No. This can't be happening. This can't be real," she said quietly as she dropped her head and closed her eyes tight. Brian and his mother looked from each other to Crystal and back again.

"What's wrong, dear?" asked his mother.

Crystal tried to stifle tears as she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I have to go." She turned and ran out of the house down the street.

Brian's mother looked at him and he shrugged his shoulders before he ran out after her. She had gotten a block away before he caught up to her.

When he caught her, she was trembling and pulled away every time he tried to touch her.

"Hey. Talk to me What is going on?"

Between sobs, she struggled to get out the words, "I want to go home."

Brian had never seen her like this, but didn't question it. "Okay. Let's go back to the car. I'll take you right now." He reached for her hand.

She screamed, "No! Go get the car and come get me."

"Okay. Okay. Stay right here. Don't move. You're scaring me." He ran back to the house and shouted an apology to his mother before hopping in the car to pick her up.

Crystal didn't speak all the way home. He got her to the door and had to defend himself to Crystal's father that he hadn't done anything to her and didn't know what was wrong. He drove home very confused. 

After trying to convince his parents that he hadn't been dating a crazy person, he called Crystal's house. Her mother answered and said she was fine, but he could not speak to her yet. The following Monday, Crystal was not at school. Brian continued to try to connect with her over the next few days, but he was always thwarted by her parents. She didn't come back to school all week.

On Friday night, Crystal's father came to Brian's house to explain to the family what had happened. He told them that Crystal had just been admitted to the hospital for a possible nervous breakdown. It had been caused by coming to their house. Her father explained that when Crystal was about 6 years old, she had started having night terrors. It involved terrible nightmares where horrendous things happened to her. Sometimes she was tortured, her family was murdered in front her, and often there were hideous monsters. She had these nightmares for over four years. They were so bad, she had to see a psychiatrist and be admitted for a period of time to get therapy. It had taken some time, but the nightmares came to an end.

It had now been over six years since the last time she had one of those dreams. They were just an unpleasant part of her past. She was fully recovered and seemed to not have any lingering psychological effects from it. 

"That doesn't explain what happened last week," said Brian.

Crystal's dad sighed. "I know this will sound strange, but it explains everything. While a variety of things happened to her in those dreams, they all happened in the same location. When you pulled in the driveway last week, one look at your house scared her because she thought it was the house from her dreams. She told me that she knew it couldn't be true, so she came in. And then seeing this room pushed her over the edge. The swears that this house is the setting for those nightmares."

Brian's mom spoke up, "Oh, the poor thing," and squeezed her husband's hand.

Brian asked, "When can I see her?"

Crystal's dad shook his head. "You're not going to. Sorry. She is having the nightmares again and they are worse than they ever were before. Even if we get them back under control, you are now a possible trigger to bring them back. Right now, even the mention of your name starts a cycle that ends in hysterics. My wife is accepting a job transfer and we are moving to get Crystal out of this town. We're sorry."

---

I don't know if this story is really Paranormal, but it was the story I had to write. While this story is fiction, it is based upon something that actually happened at our house. The girl who came to our house lasted lass than a minute before she was back outside trying to catch her breath. She told us her story about our house and demanded to leave immediately. She never came back.

 

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is P for Paranormal.

O - Oral History - #AtoZChallenge

"…and then they built their first house. Right over in the corner there by the trees."

Grandpa's story was finished. Jamie's mother stood up and exclaimed, "Grab your stuff everyone. Time to get cleaned up and off to bed.”

Grandpa sat back and smiled as he lit his pipe while Jamie and his cousins, aunts and uncles started gathering their roasting sticks, empty plates, leftover bottles and various trash that was around the fire.

Jamie enjoyed the time his family spent at Grandpa's place each summer. It was the only time he got to see his cousins other than Christmas and Grandpa's big yard was much better suited for fun than their apartment complex back home.

However, Jamie and his cousins had agreed that the nightly practice of the family listening to Grandpa ramble about a bunch of old people they didn't know had grown tiresome. When Jamie's mom stepped into the bedroom to tuck Jamie in, she overheard this topic being discussed.

She sat on the side of the bed and said to Jamie, although it was obvious this was meant for the entire room, "Jamie, Grandpa is not rambling. He is telling you the story of you."

Jamie looked at his cousins like his mom was crazy. "Grandpa doesn't tell stories about me. He tells old stories about people who died a long, long, long time ago."

His mom smiled, "No, Jamie. Those are stories about his parents and grandparents. They would be your great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents. Those stories explain where you and I come from."

Jamie knew this one. "We come from Elgin, Illinois."

"Before that, dear."

Jamie was confused. "I was born in Elgin. That's where we've always lived."

Mom laughed, "That's where you live, but who you are was being defined decades before I ever moved to Elgin with your father. The stories your grandfather tells of the young man who came to America are your stories as well. The hardships that man went through sharply defined how he looked at the world and shaped his values and work ethic. Much of that was ingrained deeply in him by his parents before he came here. Then those experiences and the people he met shaped him even more. Every decision he made, despite it being over a hundred years ago, has had an impact on the life you are living today. My dad doesn't tell these stories just because he likes to hear himself talk. These stories are for you. They are your stories. They are your family history. And believe it or not, one day you will be telling these stories to your grandchildren. And you will have more stories to add as you get older."

Jamie remembered something from tonight's campfire. "So, that story about the teenager protecting his sister from mountain lions? That was our family?"

His mom was relieved that some of her words had gotten through, "Yes. That happened to Thomas, your grandfather's father. He was my grandfather! If that story had ended differently, we wouldn't be here right now to have this conversation."

"Cool," said Jamie. He looked over at one of his cousins. "Now, I want to hear that story again."

Mom got comfortable on the bed. "Lucky for you, I've heard it many times and can tell it almost as well as Grandpa."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is O for Oral Literature.

N - Noir - #AtoZChallenge

Drake Stone fumbled around in his desk looking for another pack of cigarettes. Smoke still hung in the air of his cramped office from his last one. Had he known he was out he would have slowed to enjoy it more.

He stepped to his office door and bellowed, "Sheila, run out and get a carton of Pall Mall, would'ja?

His secretary yelled back, "I'm gonna need money this time. Mr. Stone. Petty cash is getting pretty low."

"Just get a couple of packs then."

Sheila answered, "It's really low."

"One pack?"

Sheila kept typing, "Nope."

"Damn it." Drake plopped back into his chair. Business had dried up like a drunk at an AA meeting. No business meant no money. No money meant he had to dry up too. He still had half a bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer of his desk, but no ice. The mini-fridge had to be unplugged to save power until the money started flowing again. He needed a client quick. No smokes was bad enough. Warm scotch would be even worse.

The phone on his desk split the silence like a scalpel starting a vasectomy. Drake lunged for the phone not waiting for Sheila to get it first. A case. 

"Stone Sleuthing. I can crack it. What can I do for you?"

Another bill collector. Drake slammed the phone down and spun around to cut the A/C. "Gotta start cutting back or we're sunk," he admitted. He reached into the lower drawer on his desk to retrieve the scotch. Ice or no ice, it was time for drink.

He slugged back the first glass and poured another two fingers when Sheila called out, "Someone here to see you, Stone."

Before he could answer, a tall blond with killer legs and "kiss me" lips charged into his office. She walked like she owned the place and Drake figured she was used to getting her way. He noticed the red, puffy eyes immediately and started to greet her when she reached out and took the scotch glass from his hand and downed it in one shot.

She gasped, "Excuse me, Mr. Stone, but if you have more pour me another."

Drake Stone fished out a second glass as he looked her in the eye. She never broke eye contact. Not common for a woman, but he liked it. He started to pour, but paused. "Before I do that, I need to know something, Miss…?"

She tensed, "DuRane…Bobbi DuRane."

Stone smirked, "DuRane, huh? Well, Miss DuRane, you have any smokes on you?"

Bobbi DuRane fished half a pack out of her purse and tossed them on the desk.

Stone picked up the pack and winked, "Virginia Slims? These are girly cigarettes."

Bobbi collapsed into the chair in front of the desk and pouted. "Well, I am a woman. Or didn't you notice?"

Stone lit up one of the tiny cigarettes and leaned back in his chair, "I don't think anyone has ever mistaken you for anything else. So, what can I do to please you, Miss DuRane? Or is it Mrs?"

She leaned in close over the desk reaching for the cigarettes and whispered, "I need your help."

Stone leaned in to match her intensity, "I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I figured as much. How 'bout a little more detail, darling?"

She leaned in closer, "I think a crime has been committed."

Stone couldn't help but smile. She was going to be fun. "Well, I'm not here to hand out baking recipes. You're at the right place. Why don't you tell me what's troubling you?"

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is N for Noir.

M - Mystery - #AtoZChallenge

Jenna took a deep breath before she walked into the room. She hadn't spoken with her family in over 15 years. She hadn't even made attempts to keep up with what they were doing. When she stormed out of the house that night, she never looked back. 

A few weeks ago, she had been living her own life completely separated from her interfering family when the private investigator found her and made it very clear it would be in her best interest to be here today.  She only came because she was given the impression that she had to. She was not looking to catch up with anyone or have conversation.

When she stepped in, the conversation in the room waned for a moment as all heads turned in her direction. Both her brother Darren and sister Alicia shot daggers out of their eyes. Her mother ignored her completely. Her father gave her a slight nod and resumed conversation with his son.

Jenna didn't know everyone in the room. Of course, she knew her parents and siblings. Her mother's brother Alan was here as well. There were a couple of kids running around, so one of her siblings must have squirted out some offspring. At least one of the kids belonged to the unknown woman speaking to Alicia. The child asked her to take him to the bathroom and she motioned to Darren. Darren took the child out, so Jenna assumed it was his kid and the woman was his wife.

The only other unknown person was a man perusing the bookshelf. Although, it became apparent pretty quickly he wasn't really interested in the books. Jenna noticed him sneaking nervous glances at her several times. She assumed it was Alicia's husband or boyfriend wanting to get a look at the family pariah.

As grateful as she was no one was talking to her, she knew this was not natural. A person does not walk into a room full of people without even an acknowledgement. They had to know she was coming. One of them hired that private investigator to find her. So, it's probably reasonable to assume that only one person wants her to be here. And it's also safe to assume, the extra people who have joined the family were warned not to interact with her. The guy at the bookshelf must be terrified of Alicia's wrath. Jenna could almost smell the anxiety dripping off him.

Jenna could sense the tension in the room and the hatred directed at her. She was well aware of how much she was disliked by her family and she understood why. They hated her because it's the way they are. It was to be expected. However, they really had no reason to. The worst she had ever done to any of them was leave to live her own life, but that was enough. She would never be forgiven.

Her brother returned with the child and was followed by a man Jenna knew she had seen before. He was the first to speak to her. The man clapped his hands together and said, "Oh, good. You're here. We can get started."

Jenna heard a "pfft" from her sister at the acknowledgement of her presence, but ignored it. The man who spoke to her stepped to the other end of the room and opened a briefcase to remove a several-page document. Jenna remembered him now. He had been her father's lawyer since she was a girl.

The lawyer started, "Now that we are all accounted for, we shall begin. I hold in my hands the Last Will and Testament of James Creuble to be read today."

The adults looked at each other in confusion and looked to their father for confirmation. James Creuble nodded slowly. Darren blurted out, "The man is standing right there. What is this?" He looked to his father and asked, "What is going on?"

Mr. Creuble cleared his throat. "Did that Ivy League education teach you nothing. He just said what it was."

Darren fell back at the words of his father, but Alicia pushed for an answer. "Father, are you dying? This is very unusual."

The patriarch rolled his eyes with impatience. "We are all dying. Everyone one of you. Now listen up. No more stupid questions."

Jenna smirked in the back of the room. She hadn't missed these conversations. This was how most of them went in this family. Everyone just spewing their disgust at each other.

Darren got his courage back, "So, we came all the way here for this? When you're not even close to dead? It makes no sense."

James Creuble stood and stabbed his finger into Darren's face. "Did you just say, 'ALL THE WAY HERE?' You and your whiny family live two blocks from here in the house I bought you. Your sister and…HIM *pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at the nervous bookcase guy…only had to walk down the stairs to get here. The only person who actually had to put in any effort to be here is Jenna. She, and only she, can honestly use the phrase "all the way here."

James Creuble looked around the room and met Jenna's eyes for a moment. He gave her another slight nod and turned to sit down. "My will is being read today. No, I am not dying. I wanted to write out my wishes while I still have complete use of my mind. And we are here today, instead of after my death, because I want to be here to answer all your questions about why you got what you got or didn't get. There will be no squabbling or fighting over my reasons because you're going to find out today."

He turned to his lawyer, "Let's get this going."

---

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is M for Mystery.

L - Legends - #AtoZChallenge - "Just the Tip"

It had been a journey of many leagues. Magni had been traveling on foot for over a week. Almost halfway to his destination, he knew the end was in sight. He had caught a ride a few times on farmers' carts, but most people were not very trusting of people they did not know. That trust had only decreased since he left the land of his own realm, but he had not met any violence.

Magni had enough coin to buy food when he could find it, but little extra for accommodation. He had slept in stables, under trees, and under a bridge once during a storm. A few days ago, a washerwoman had taken pity on him and allowed him into her family's home for the night, but he knew he could not expect this to be common.

Tonight, trudging along the road as the sun was going down, Magni took notice of the increase in foot and horse traffic. This always meant he was coming close to a town or village. His spirits rose in hopes of being able to find a hot meal before finding a place to lay his head. He inquired of a passerby who informed him there was a tavern further up the road.

Magni looked forward to a hot soup or maybe some roasted boar. He decided he would even splurge on a flagon of ale or mulled wine. It was a nice night. After a full belly, any tree would do for shelter. He picked up the pace to get his hot meal.

Within an hour he came across the tavern. The paint was peeling on the sign above the door, but it could still be read. The Broken Traveler had a depiction of a man sleeping under several sets of watchful eyes. Magni was not sure if that logo was meant to be comforting to strangers, but it implied they were welcomed. He made his way inside and was surprised at the number of people spread about the room. This was a popular place for a tavern on the edge of town.

There were about a dozen tables in the middle that could have seated six people comfortably, but comfort didn't seem to be a concern here. There were ten to fifteen people crowded around each of the tables. More if you counted the girls in men's laps. The beer was flowing, conversation was lively, and the songs were cheerful. The place seemed friendly enough. Magni found an empty seat at one of the smaller tables near a wall as a cheer went up from one of the big tables.

Across the table from him sat a man who seemed to be having a quiet conversation with his drink. He only raised his head enough to take another sip and went right back to muttering into his cup. Magni offered a greeting, but the man gave little more than a nod as he continued to concentrate on his beverage.

Magni managed to flag down a serving girl and learned the cook had made his specialty tonight, a hearty stew that he only makes twice a year. She told him everyone was here for the stew. Magni asked for the stew and an ale. He leaned against the wall and stretched his arms above his head. It felt good to sit down. He wanted to stretch out his legs, but there were too many people milling about. It would have been rude to take up too much space.

Magni heard a loud cheer go up across the room. Several people moved to a small table on the other side of the tavern and patted the back of one of the men seated there. The serving woman from earlier pushed through the crowd and set a large beer before the man. The crowd cheered again as the man held up his new drink. Magni didn't know what everyone was celebrating, but was happy to get to be in the middle of it. This was a very lively crowd.

Magni's stew and ale arrived and he quickly realized how hungry he was. He downed the ale quickly and asked the server for another before she got away.

He tasted the stew and was immediately pleased with his decision. It was delicious. It had onions, garlic, and hard-boiled quails eggs with chucks of bitter gourd. The broth was spiced perfectly. He lifted the stew to take a long sip right from the bowl. He loved it.

A loud cheer erupted from the table next to him and so many people came crowding around, the bowl was almost knocked from his grasp. He saw a man seated being slapped on the back and people rubbing his head and he smiled from ear to ear. The serving girl showed up with Magni's ale and quickly apologized to Magni as she handed the beer to the happy man. She quickly ran off and was back a moment later with another for Magni.

Magni gulped down some of his ale and asked the man sharing his table what everyone was so happy about. The man didn't look up, but said "Lucky. Lucky man" to his cup. Magni shrugged his shoulders and popped an egg from the stew into his mouth.

He kept eating and enjoying the revelry around him. He soon ordered a third drink and was feeling very good.

The bowl was almost empty, so Magni raised it to his lips and used his spoon to shovel what was left into his mouth. He had over-filled his mouth and was having trouble chewing without dropping food back out. He was slowly getting it down when he felt something hard against the top of his mouth. Still chewing and moving things around, the hard part found its way to his teeth. It was too hard to chew. He managed to swallow everything but the hard piece and spit it out.

It was the top portion of one of the bitter gourds. It even had part of the stem still on it and was about the size of a large coin. He was looking at it as he washed out his mouth with another drink of ale.

Suddenly, the quiet man at the table with him burst out. "Lucky. Stew lucky. Lucky man!"

The crowds turned and looked at him with excitement in their eyes. He flashed a bewildered smile. People started rushing toward him and cheering. He tossed the chunk of gourd on the floor and cheerfully asked "What?"

The crowd stopped and looked at the chunk on the floor. A few people gasped and pointed. The man at his table, still looking into his glass started chattering, "no no no no no no no."

The serving woman showed up with a huge smile and a beer for Magni that he hadn't ordered and looked at the people staring at him. "What's going on?"

The closest man, red in face, shouted, "He threw down the tip. Just threw it on the dirty floor." The crowd nodded their agreement as they moved closer. Magni could sense the change in the crowd as they closed in. Several were throwing insults and comments at him.

"Do you think you're better than us?"
"Who turns down good luck?"
"Who are you to throw us to the dirt?"
"This town doesn't need your kind."

The serving woman leaned in close and yelled over the noise of the crowd. "You need to leave now."

"I haven't paid yet."

She answered quickly, "Just go if you know what's good for you."

Magni got up and slowly forced his way through the angry crowd. They hurled insults at him and a few spit in his face. He feared for his safety and had no idea why. As he approached the exit, he was pushed from behind and fell out the door. 

Half the tavern followed him out and continued shouting at him. He hurried to get away from these people, but several chased him down and blocked his path.

"You're a bad omen. You're not going into our town."

Magni tried to object. "But I'm headed south. I have to go that way."

One of the men pulled out a dagger. "Find another way."

Magni turned back up the path he had just traveled from and started back. Half a dozen men followed to be sure he was leaving town before they returned to the tavern.

He knew he would probably lose a day cutting through the woods to avoid the town when he turned south again, but he didn't understand why.

Magni smiled as he walked, "Well, at least I ate for free."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is L for Legend.

K - Karen - #AtoZChallenge

Mrs. Ballard swiped her debit card again and the gas pump still wouldn't read it. She had tried three times and even started the whole process over with the pump and it wasn't working. She didn't like using her credit card for daily purchases, but pulled it out of her purse anyway. It didn't work either.

She hit the HELP button, but wasn't getting a response. Looking inside the station, it appeared the cashier was engaged with a woman at the counter.

Frustrated, she pulled to another pump since the card machine was broken on the first one. Unfortunately, she had the same problem at the new one. And she still got no response when she pressed the HELP button. It appeared the customer inside was upset about something and had the cashier's attention. That's why he hadn't responded to the HELP call.

Mrs. Ballard was about to storm into the station when she noticed the PAY INSIDE button. She had forgotten about that option. She had paid at the pump for so many years, paying inside was a distant memory. She filled up her tank and headed for the front doors.

As soon as the automatic doors slid open, Mrs. Ballard could hear the woman in full rant screaming at the cashier.

"ARE YOU STUPID? HOW HARD IS IT TO MAKE A DAMN CUP OF COFFEE?"

Mrs. Ballard stood far back to not attract attention to herself. She was in no hurry. She could wait until this ugly scene played out.

The cashier motioned toward the drink area and calmly stated, "As I told you, miss, the coffee station is right over there. We have three kinds of coffee including decaf and several flavored creamers. You can make it to your taste."

The customer seemed to be enraged by this and stuck her finger in the cashier's face as the spittle flew from her mouth. "AND AS I TOLD YOU, IF I WANTED TO MAKE MY OWN COFFEE I WOULD HAVE DONE SO AT HOME!"

"You are more than welcome to go do that." Mrs. Ballard was amazed at how well the cashier was keeping his cool and a giggle slipped out at that response.

The angry woman shot a look at her, but directed her hate back to the poor employee. "Are you going to make that coffee or not?"

The cashier stated definitively, "I am not supposed to leave the counter when I am the only employee in the store."

Mrs. Ballard decided to try to help. She spoke up as she moved toward the drink station, "I'll get your coffee. What would you like?"

She glared at Mrs. Ballard, "I would like some damn customer service and a little human decency."

"So, no coffee then?" and she went back to her place.

The front doors slid open and a woman walked in wearing the same uniform as the cashier. The customer immediately confronted the newcomer. "I guess now that there's a second person here, one of you can tackle the incredibly complicated task of getting my coffee." 

Since her path was basically blocked by a seething woman, she looked around her to the cashier and asked, "What's happening here?"

The cashier started to explain, but the customer cut him off." He refused to make my coffee."

"Well, I am sorry about that. I am the manager and I have instructed him to not leave the counter when he is the only employee in the store."

The manager edged her way sideways around the customer and walked to the coffee station. She started filling a large cup. "Would you like sugar or creamer?"

The customer was not finished. "So, is it your stupid policy to keep customers from getting served while you are out running around town?"

The manager stopped filling the cup and poured it in the sink. She stepped up to the customer and answered, "Customer service does not stop for the people who are smart enough to recognize that this is a self-serve station and not a restaurant. If you want someone to wait on you, go to a place that does that." 

The customer was aghast. "Well, I've never had such treatment. Do you know who I am? My husband is a well-respected man in this town."

The manager grew louder, "Well, it's a shame he couldn't marry someone who was the same. Get out of my store. We don't tolerate you crazy Karens here."

The customer stomped out with a few more words about her perceived treatment and sped out of the parking lot. The manager let her employee know how well he had done to keep his cool and sent him on break.

"I am sorry you had to witness that. How can I help you?"

Mrs. Ballard smiled, "It's okay. Not your fault. The card machine outside wasn't working, so I came inside to pay." She slid her card to the manager.

The manager grabbed the card and jumped when she looked at it, "Oh, I am so sorry. Karen Ballard. Your name is Karen."

Karen Ballard patted the managers hand, "It's okay, dear. There's good Karens and bad Karens. Just try not to judge us all by the bad ones. I don't think she was one of us any way."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. I don't know any genres that start with K and couldn't find any online, so today's letter is K for Karen.

J - Juxtaposition - #AtoZChallenge

I searched all over the internet for the name of a literary genre that started with the letter J and I could not find one that made sense for a Western audience. So, I chose the word Juxtaposition. 

For this post, I will take the post I started this challenge with and tell it from the other person's perspective. The original post was A - Adventure. You can read that post to see the way I originally wrote it. It only had two characters. The original was written from Trina's perspective. This one will be the same story, but told from Terry's side.

---

"Why do I keep letting you talk me into this crap?" wailed Terry.

Terry's sister Trina seemed to be ignoring him as she wrapped his ankle. It figured. She dragged him all the way out here in the middle of nowhere and then got quiet when the inevitable happened.

"I didn't talk you into tripping over that branch. That happened because you were looking at your phone instead of where you were going. That's why I left mine in the car. No distractions. Just try to enjoy it out here."

Terry winced as he tried to stand up. "But I don't enjoy it out here. This is your thing, not mine."

He had been trying to tell her this all morning, but she chose not to listen. She'd been on this nature kick ever since she went off to college. He knew it had something to do with her major, but never expected it to turn her into a drag to be around.

Trina shot back, "I asked you this morning what you wanted to do together and you had nothing. So, I came up with something."

Terry swatted at the bugs around his face and tried to let her know that hurt, "That's not true. I asked you to play Halo with me. You weren't interested."

Trina sighed, "That's the opposite of doing something."

Terry wiped at the sweat on his neck. "All I know is that I never sprained an ankle running through the jungle with Lara Croft. A couple of hours with you and I'm a cripple."

Terry knew he was laying it on thick, but she rarely listened to him anymore. They used to have so much fun together. They shared a love of movies, great food, and raunchy stand-up comics their parents didn't like them to watch. They had stayed up all night playing Guitar Hero and other games hundreds of times…until she went off to school. Now all she wanted to do was go camping and fishing and hiking and other stupid things.

Terry had actually been excited the first weekend she came home from school. He had missed his Mario Kart buddy. He had rented the newest Final Fantasy  for her weekend visit, but all she could talk about was her new friends and the classes she was taking. Every visit had been the same since. It was like she was a different person.

Trina didn't seem to be treating Terry's injury very seriously. "It's just a sprained ankle. Let's make our way back to the car."

Terry pushed away from the tree and collapsed as soon as he put weight on his injured foot. He tried to make a joke, "I don't think I can walk. Call an Uber."

Trina just laughed at him as the pain shot through his leg all the way up to his knee. He couldn't believe she was getting pleasure out of this. He reluctantly accepted her help getting to his feet. He didn't really have much of a choice. Plus, they were so far from the car, getting back was going to take a while. Especially at this new, slow pace.

As Terry slowly moved each foot, even with Trina's help, she kept pestering him with questions. It took a few before she landed on something he actually had an opinion about. "Have you gotten any new games since my last visit?"

He mumbled out a short answer, but she prodded further. Soon Terry was excitedly telling her the plot points of Hitman 3 and recalling his latest adventures in Red Dead Redemption II now that he had the latest expansion pack. Trina was even asking a few good questions. After a few minutes, he was in a better mood and, despite the pain, sometimes forgot about his injury. He was just talking games with his sister like they used to.

With about half a mile left to go, they came to the log that had fallen across a dried creek bed. The creek was only about five feet deep, but had very steep sides. The bridge provided by the fallen tree was perfect. On the way in, they just walked across the log, but with Terry's injured ankle it was proving to be much more difficult this time. Trina and Terry couldn't cross hanging onto each other. He knew he was going to have to do it alone.

He still couldn't walk well, so they tried a couple of different ways. "Get in front of me and give me your hand," Terry said.

Trina did as instructed and it seemed to work. She had to walk backward and go very slow, but that little bit of support was all Terry needed to start working his way across. Terry was a little shaky without her supporting him, but if he took small steps he could slowly manage.

About halfway across, Terry heard a sudden crack and loud grunting-type noise. Terry was startled and almost went down as he saw an awakened deer scrambling away from under the tree. He heard a shriek from Trina and lost sight of her as she fell off the log and into the creek.

 Terry laid himself down on the log to peer down into the brush. "Trina are you alright?"

He could hear the pain in her voice. "I don't know yet. I've hurt my knee. Give me a minute."

"What do you want me to do?"

He couldn't see her face, but he could see her hand as she waved him to keep moving to the other end of the tree. Terry edged his way to the other side of the creek and eased himself down on the edge of the creek. He could see her now. He extended his hand as he laid on his stomach.

"Come on. I got you." 

Trina tried to stand, but she was not moving well. When she hit the ground again, she pulled herself to the edge of the creek where Terry's hand was. He saw that she was dragging her leg behind her trying not to move it. As mad as he was at his sister, he felt bad for her. She looked like she was in worse pain than he was. That made two cripples in the woods.

She drug herself to the bank of the creek where Terry was and could not reach his outstretched hand and she was in too much pain to get higher. He tried to stretch further, but she told him to stop.

"Even if I could reach you, I would just pull you in. There's no way you can lift me."

Terry was a little insulted, but knew she was right. "I bet you wish we were playing XBOX right now."

He could hear her choking back a sob as she yelled, "Shut up. You're not helping."

He smiled a little at that one. "Sorry. What do we do?"

Through broken breaths, Trina explained, "I know I gave you a hard time for bringing your phone, but now would be a good time to use it. I can't get out of this creek and you can barely walk. Call Dad and let him know where we are. Him and Daryl will need to come rescue us."

"Um, Trina. My phone died about 20 minutes ago."

Terry didn't like their situation, but enjoyed hearing the little laugh that escaped from Trina. "We have ourselves in a fix don't we? Terry, suck it up and limp yourself back to the car? My phone will be fully charged. Got it?"

"Yeah, but…I have no idea where I am. I've been following you the whole time. How do I find the car? I don't even know what direction to go."

Terry knew Trina had been excited to show this place to him, but even she had only been here once. And her preference for getting off the trail meant he had nothing to guide him back. "So tell me what to do, Mountain Man Trina."

"Crap! That's right. OK, listen, you still move better than I do. Find a section of creek that is not as steep or deep. At a shorter bank or less steep incline, maybe I can crawl out."

"OK. I'll try."

Terry heard Trina starting to cry as he limped along the side of the creek. He knew she had waited until he got far enough away to not hear here, but she hadn't waited long enough. She had always liked to be seen as the strong, responsible older sister. He thought she was full of it, but wouldn't call her out on this one.

Terry had only moved about 50 feet along the side of the creek when it started to rain. Terry shouted, "SERIOUSLY? I hate it out here."

He worked his way back to Trina and leaned over the edge. "When this is all over, I hope you know I'm never going outside again." 

Trina gave him a thumbs up and waved him away.

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is J for Juxtaposition.

I - Imaginary Voyage - #AtoZChallenge

Brayden woke up to the sound of his dad yelling up the stairs. "Let's go, kid. Bus will be here in an hour."

Brayden rubbed his eyes and heard his dad's voice again, "Did you hear me? Get a move on." Brayden answered back, "I'm up." He then lowered his head and closed his eyes.

The fire alarm screamed to life waking everyone in the station. Firefighter Brayden launches himself out of his cot and flies to his dresser. Every second counts in a fire. He must move fast. Fresh underwear and socks are on in less than a second. He spins to the closet as he gets his second sock on. He pulls out his shirt, removes the hanger and has the shirt on in one practiced, fluid motion. He is pulling on his pants as he heads out the door, scooping up his gear as he leaves. Firefighter Brayden slides effortlessly down the pole to the truck in less than 45 seconds from the time he got out of bed. A new record.

"Brayden Michael," his mom said sternly. "How many times have you been told to stay off the banister? It's starting to come loose from all your abuse."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Sit down and eat. I made pancakes today." His mom set the butter and syrup on the table as Brayden pulled his plate toward him. He slid a generous slab of butter between the pancakes and slowly dripped syrup on the top to watch it spread.

The volcano eruption wasn't much of an explosion, but the lava is unstoppable. It is slowly creeping down the hills toward the town devouring everything in its path. The people are evacuating, but are unsure of where to go on this island. The lava is spreading further and has started hitting people's homes causing them to immediately burst into flames. Many townspeople are fleeing to the docks and getting on their boats to watch their town burn from the safety of the water. The lava is spilling off all sides of the island leaving no place safe for anyone. It will be a long time before this island is inhabitable again.

"Hey, hey hey," Brayden's dad snatched the syrup out of his hands. "How much syrup do you need? That's more than all of us together should use this morning. Get your head out of the clouds."

Brayden ate his breakfast and got an extra pancake, but was not allowed any more syrup. There was still a lake of maple on his plate. He ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth, but his mom caught him on the way out. 

"How can you not see the condition your hair is in? It looks like there are squirrels living on your head." She grabbed a brush and…

"Try your worst," First Lieutenant Brayden jeers. "I'll never talk."

The interrogator sneers at him as he picks up his instrument of torture. "Everyone says that, but they all talk eventually." He approaches slowly, but First Lieutenant Brayden never drops his gaze. He shows no fear as the pincers begin to open and move toward his eye.

"Hold still. I can't get this tangle out if you keep jumping around," complained Brayden mom. Brayden tried not to squirm until his mom finished her mission.

Coming out of the bathroom, Brayden was met my his dad. Dad took him outside and they sat on the front steps. Brayden saw the dogs across the street watching traffic go by.

A guard dog has an important job. He is to be the eyes and ears for the people who can't see and hear (or even smell) as good. If anyone tries to get into this lab, it just might be the dog who stops him first. There's important stuff here the other labs want to know about. Security is here to stop that and it can't be done without some good guard dogs. The most important job is to protect the perimeter. Even approaching the fence will…

"Hey, are you hearing me?" Brayden's dad snapped his fingers in Brayden's face. "We can't have any more of this. Your teacher says you don't stay focused. You have got to pay attention. Got it?"

"I always pay attention."

His dad sighed, "Well, try to make the teacher see that. Maybe look at the blackboard instead of out the window. Okay?"

"Yes, Dad." Brayden got up to meet the school bus on the next block. As he turned the corner, he saw that a few of the kids were already there waiting.

One of his friends turned and waved. Brayden immediately dove into the bushes.

Private Brayden knew that was too close. He was almost seen. If he lets his position be known, he won't be able to blow the convoy when it comes through. He crawls along the hedge to get closer to the target, but careful to be silent to not alert the others to his presence.

Brayden's dad watched from an upstairs window and shook his head.

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is I for Imaginary Journey.

500 Blog Posts

 Back in October of 2010, I wrote my first post and it has been quite a ride. Today, I am writing my 500^th post.

I started this blog because my daughter was dating a boy who had to do a blog for a high school project. He was telling me how much he enjoyed and that I should try it. So, I did.

 I quickly learned that I loved writing and had a bit of a knack for it. Since then, I have been published (sort of), and gotten married because of this blog. I've lived in seven different places in three different countries since my first post. I've had close to half a million visits to this page. It's been a huge blessing to me and I am so glad I started.

 Thank you to all of you who have read and participated.

H - Horror - #AtoZChallenge

"Janie, dear, you know this is not allowed. You have to find another way."

"Sorry, Mom. I don't have time to sort it out. It'll be alright. I'll be back first thing in the morning. Sorry. Bye."

Jake's grandma growled as his mom pulled away. She was pissed, but she would never say anything against his parents. Not to him, at least.

Jake's grandparents lived in a small retirement village on the edge of town. He had been there a few times, but was never allowed to spend the night. Apparently, the management of the village had some very strict rules about overnight guests. And children were not allowed to be there at all after dark. It was supposed to be a quiet place for the old people to enjoy retirement with no disturbances.

Or pets.
Or noise.
Or bright colors.
Or "inappropriate" clothes.
Or fun.

Jake had never really liked going there. He loved his grandparents, but not going to their house There was nothing to do there and anything that began to resemble fun got shut down quickly. Usually, all it took was for him or his brother Chip to laugh and they would get dirty looks. His grandma and grandpa always seemed really nervous when he or his brother were there and Grandma always worried they would get them in trouble.

"It's supposed to be a peaceful place," Grandpa would remind them.

They were fun when they came to Jake's house. When his mom got stuck with unexpected night shifts, one or both of the grandparents would come to their house to stay with them. Those nights were great. They stayed up later than Mom usually let them and Grandma always baked a big cake. Grandpa would make them laugh with his jokes and they had a lot of fun.

But Jake was dreading tonight. Chip was lucky. He was out camping on a Boy Scout trip. Jake was in a hotel with his Mom when this shift got dropped on her. With no time to find a solution, she threw some clothes in a bag and they raced to the grandparent's house. She dropped him off and was gone before Grandma could object too much.

Jake and his grandparents couldn't just go back to Jake's house because it was being fumigated. He probably had a dozen friends who he could have stayed with, but his mom said she didn't have time to make the phone calls to find a place. He was going to have to stay with Grandma and Grandpa.

When his grandpa got home, he was very surprised to see Jake. When his grandma explained, she said "we should all go to a hotel for the night." The village was very serious about people violating the rules.

Grandpa said, "We can't tonight. Remember? We have to be here."

Grandma looked over at Jake and apologized.

It was already getting dark. Grandpa wheeled the TV into their bedroom and told Jake he would be sleeping in there tonight. "Go brush your teeth," he said.

"What? It's barely 7 o' clock."

Grandpa shot Jake a stern look he had rarely seen before. Grandpa reminded him that they were not at Jake's house. They were at Grandma and Grandpa's house and  violating the rules of their housing complex. They would not take any chances on anyone knowing he was there. So, he was to go to their bedroom and watch TV. He could watch as late as he wanted (with the volume so low he couldn't hear it), but he was to stay in there. Grandma said they would make it up to him next week.

Grandpa started making a pallet on the floor of their living room for them to sleep on. Jake felt bad for them to sleep on the floor and offered to do it, but Grandma ushered him in to the bedroom. She gave him a bottle of water and a kiss on the forehead and reminded him how important it was to be very quiet and not get them in trouble. They liked their little community and did not want to lose it.

Jake watched TV for a while, but Grandpa said he was not to turn it up which meant he couldn't really hear it. He laid with his head at the foot of the bed to be closer. That helped a little, but not enough. Just staying in a dark room with nothing to do got boring and Jake fell asleep.

A few hours later, he woke up and used their bathroom, but was really thirsty. He had already drunk all the water Grandma gave him. He needed more, but knew they couldn't drink the tap water here. He needed a new bottle out of the fridge. Jake knew he wasn't supposed to leave the room, but was sure he could be quiet.

Jake left the room on his hands and knees because he didn't want anyone outside to see him there and get his grandparents in trouble. He crawled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. The light lit up the whole room and he could see into the living room. The pallet Grandpa had made was empty. Jake crawled into the living room and quietly called out their names. There was no answer. They weren't here. It was almost 1 a.m. Where would they be?

He peeked out the window and could see their car, so he went to the front of the house to see if they were sitting on the porch like they sometimes do. Looking out the front window, he saw several of their neighbors walking toward the community center in the middle of the village. They seemed to be going to the center from each direction. Jake knew his grandparents village was strict about the rules, but did they call meetings in the middle of the night?

It frightened him to think that maybe they got in trouble because someone found out he was there. He knew getting kicked out of this village they loved so much was one of their biggest concerns. He hoped he wouldn't be the cause of them having to leave their home. Jake knew he didn't like it there, but they seemed to.

Jake decided to investigate and slipped on his shoes. Once there seemed to be no one else on the street, he crept from house to house toward the community center building. It was very late at night, but he noticed that he did not hear any noise coming from any of the houses he passed. Everyone must have gone to the building. 

Jake crawled up to one of the windows on the opposite side of the building people had been entering. He was trying to be smart. He didn't want to be seen by someone coming or going from the building.

Jake slowly raised his head to peek inside and immediately jumped back down. Everyone inside was wearing black robes. His heart was beating quickly, but he tried to listen through the noise of his pounding chest. Everyone inside seemed to be talking at the same time. He could not understand the words, but they were talking together. In unison.

Jake took a few deep breaths and stood up to peek in again. Everyone was looking toward the front of the room and not near the window he was looking in. He felt safe he would not be seen, but did not know what he was looking at.

When everyone stopped talking, a person at the front stood up facing the crowd. He had the hood up on his robe so Jake could not see his face. He was behind a small table that was covered with a red cloth. This man spoke very loudly and when he did everyone in the entire room repeated what he said.

Jake decided that the words were not in English. That was why he could not understand them. He didn't know what he was seeing, but knew he had seen enough. It was time to sneak back to the house This was not a meeting about him.

Jake was slowly lowering to make his escape when he saw his grandpa's face. His grandpa had stepped up to the table at the front of the room and turned around to address the crowd. Jake watched as he bent down to pick up a small sleeping girl and placed her on the table. Jake was shocked to see another kid here. Children were not allowed. And that girl looked to be only about 4 years old. She would definitely not be good at keeping herself quiet.

Jake watched as his grandpa reached again for the girl and lifted one of her arms. Grandpa then pulled a short rope from a pocket and tied the girl's arm to one of the table legs. What was he doing? Grandpa produced another rope just as the girl started to wake. She looked up and started crying immediately. Jake's grandpa secured the other arm while another person got up to restrain her legs and then his grandpa fished out two more ropes.

Jake watched in horror trying to make sense of what he was seeing. This was terrible! What were they doing?

Grandpa then produced a large knife and handed it to the hooded man before sitting back down. Jake couldn't believe his eyes. No. It must be a nightmare.

The hooded man bellowed out words from that foreign language and everyone in the room stood. They raised their hoods over their heads and the hooded man raised the knife high in the air.

Jake screamed in terror. He couldn't take it anymore.

Every head in the room snapped to look at the window where he was standing. Jake was frozen in terror, but the people in the room started moving from their places. He saw some hurrying out the doors on the other side of the building. He was beginning to hyperventilate when he heard shouts coming up beside him. They were rushing toward him. Jake ran as fast as he could back to his grandparent's house. He got far away from them quickly. The senior citizens who lived there were not very fast.

Jake fell when he got to the street and skinned his knee badly, but he was still able to get up and run into the house almost a full minute before anyone else got there.

He locked the door behind him and started crying in the corner. People were banging on the door and peeking in the windows. They were pointing at him and some were screaming, "You saw!"

Jake heard the voice of his grandpa booming over the shouts and the crowd began to quiet some. He heard a key turn in the lock and his grandma rushed in. She looked terrified and was crying. Grandpa came in right after her and locked the door.

"Grandma, what did they do to you?"

It took her a moment to choke back her tears. She responded, "Jake, baby. Why didn't you stay in your room?"

Jake threw his arms around her and cried. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where you were. I didn't mean to."

His grandma kissed him on his head and held him tight. Grandpa stepped up and patted his head. "We love you, Jake."

Someone outside shouted again. "Enough of this. He saw. You know he saw." The crowd started to get loud again.

Grandpa took a step away and Grandma began crying harder. Grandma kissed Jake and ambled back to her bedroom. Grandpa turned his back on Jake and shuddered as he unlocked the front door.

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is H for Horror.