What is 5MinuteFiction, you say? It’s an adrenaline-fueled, instant-gratification sort of writing contest. Sound fun? Great! Get in there and get dirty!
The Rules
* You get five minutes to write a piece of prose or poetry in any style or genre
* You must directly reference today’s prompt: blue
(Note: The prompt is the word. The picture is for decoration/inspiration.)
* Post your entry as a comment to this post.
I’ll close the contest at 1:45. That gives you 5 minutes to write and ten to accommodate the vagaries of relative time, technology, and the fickle internets. If you are confused or just want to whine, feel free to email me.
At the close of the contest, this week’s guest judge, R.A. Evans, @raevanswrites, author of Asylum Lake, will nominate five finalists. I’ll put the nominees in the poll on the side of the page, and at 9:00 EDT tomorrow I’ll close the poll and declare the winner.
For updates, you can subscribe to my RSS Feed, “like” my Facebook Page, or follow me on twitter.
What’s the prize? Well, nothing, obviously. But we’ll all agree to tweet and/or blog about the winner of today’s contest so their fame and fortune will be assured.
A Few Notes:
* In the interest of time and formatting, it’s best to type straight into the comment box. It’s also smart to do a quick highlight and copy before you hit “post” just in case the internets decide to eat your entry. If your entry doesn’t appear right away, email me sometimes comments go into the suspected spam folder and I have to dig them out.
* I reserve the right to remove hate speech or similar but I’m not too picky about the other stuff.
* This is all for fun and self-promotion. So be sure to put your twitter handle at the end of your post and a link to your blog if you have one.
Annie twirled around, her head thrown back as she stared at the blue sky. The clouds floated across, wisps of fluff, swirling in with the blue. She stopped spinning and fell back. The sky continued to turn. Standing unsteadily, Annie took a few steps, the world continuing to turn, then she fell, falling down the hill, head over ass. The sky came into view as she tumbled, then disapearing, blue, green, blue green, blue, thump. She landed at the bottom of the hill, the blue sky hanging above her.
Giggling, she stood up and ran back to the top of the hill. Twirling around, Annie stared up at the blue sky.
Henry has been saving up for two years now. He was sick of getting hand-me-down cars from his older brothers and sisters. Almost twenty-one years of age, it was time he got what he wanted.
He picked up extra shifts, he offered to mow the neighbors lawn, sold DVDs and CDs for whatever the pawn shop would give him. He even donated blood! Every penny earned was a penny closer to his dream car.
On August 21st, the dream became a reality when Henry and his girlfriend, Josie, went down to the dealership and picked up the beauty. A 2011 Mustang GT in Metallic Blue. Henry was filled with glee. What a proud moment it was for him to not only walk away with a new car, but to pay cash for it. The things he did, how hard he worked. He never wanted to do that again!
Henry started the car.
*VROOOOOOOOM*
He nodded his head at Josie. “Buckle up!” Let’s take this blue beast out for a ride.”
He punched the gas and zoomed out of the parking lot onto Main Street. Too bad he didn’t look to the right and see that semi coming.
AJ Powers recently posted..So there’s this thing called pubwrite…
It was everywhere. It covered the walls, the furniture, even the ceiling fans. There was no place in the house that was immune to the thin covering of blue fur. After Peter realized how bad it was, he stopped worrying about where it came from. Of course as he rushed from room to room in his house, he batted around some ideas. It could have been that he left the basement door open again, or maybe Sasha finally got sick of being ignored and let it free. That could be it, she hadn’t talked to him in days, and he wasn’t helping by trying to apologize for how absent he has been. Or the fact he hasn’t slept in their bed for the last two weeks, it might be best not to think about the sex or lack thereof.
Honestly all Peter could think about right now was how far the fur reached, and if it got out of the house, well things could get bad. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard a soft mewing sound, and noticed a lump of blue fur squirming in front of the bathroom door. Reaching down he brushed it away, and saw a very upset looking cat staring up at him. With a sigh he reached down to pick up the cat, his eyes were drawn to a shaft of light at the end of the hall, coming from the small window there, that was cracked open. Oh hell.
@adenpenn
Aden recently posted..Sliver Immortal Flash Fiction Contest
She just stared at him with her piercing blue eyes. He tried not to squirm under her scrutiny.
“Mandy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for them to find out.” Travis told her quietly.
“But they did, and now everyone is staring at me!” She bit out. “How am I ever to show my face in this town again?”
“You are strong and you will figure it out.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You are a guy and you aren’t held to the same antiquated standards that a woman is in this backwards small town.” Mandy ran her hand through her hair. “Not only do they think I’m a witch, now they think I’m a hussy.”
Travis started walking toward her. He wanted to comfort her and assure her that everything would be okay. As he got close, she put both hands on his chest as if to keep him away. He ignored her and gathered her in to his embrace.
“They don’t think you are a hussy. It will just take them a little while to realize that bad things happen to good people.” Travis said as he laid his cheek on the top of her head.
Bronwynk recently posted..Friday 56 – Night Myst by Yasmine Galenorn
Her grief was blue. The color of cornflowers and winter skies and despair.
I watched her fade away. Over days, hours, minutes. I think I saw the moment death entered her eyes.
Three days later she hung herself, a neatly planned and executed departure. As quiet and unassuming as she always was.
I think she thought we wouldn’t find her. In her hidden glen down by the lake. But I knew about her beflowered hiding place. I’d crept down there many a time, to watch her watch the clouds roll by. To fall in love with her.
I took her down from the oak just beside the weeping willow she used to hide herself within. And there, in private, I buried her and my heart along with her.
Leah Petersen recently posted..Review of American Gods by Neil Gaiman
I don’t think that there is anyone in the world who displays his feelings quite like I do. It is some sort of physical abnormality that occured after the accident (Some fucking accident, 15 million people killed, three quarters of the worlds water supply contaminated and radio-active and countless survivors wishing for death over life). There was a small pocket of contaminated area that when mixed with the atmospheric conditions and sunlight concentration at the time led to very specific and “Super-Power-Like” mutations. Some could fly, some had super sonic speed, strength mind reading, you name it. What did I get? Colour changing and not the blend into the background type. My brother can toss a car 30 yards and all I get is an extra five minutes in the bathroom if my sister notices I’m purple (Horny), a wide birth when I’, red (angry), and a hug when I’m blue (yeah, real original).
Yeap my father is “Sonic” and I am “Moody”.
@DRyanLeask
The funny thing about waking up in the hospital ward of an asylum is the strange sense of detachment you feel.
Bright lights, strangers in blue-green medical garb screaming questions at you, the strange background hiss that you eventually realize is the sound of your own rasping breath.
Sometime later, I realized I’d drifted unconscious again, only to be woken by some nurse with a false look of empathy on her face and a little paper cup of pills to take.
It was nighttime when I awoke for the third time. I could tell by the blackness beyond the window. The lights in my room were still on however; and the activity in the hallway was a noisy symphony of beeps, unrecognizable voices and squeaky rubberized nurse-shoes.
I was thirsty…my lips were cracked with dehydration. I saw a cup with a straw in my night table. When I reached for it was when I realized I was handcuffed to the hospital bed railing. The clanking of metal on metal must of alerted the nurse who’d given me pills earlier that I was awake.
“Can I get you something, dear?”
“Some water, please.,” I croaked.
I took a long drag from the straw, wishing, suddenly, it was a cigarette. She took the cup from me when I’d drained it.
I lifted my arm, the one cuffed to the bed, clinking the cuffs on the railing once more.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice sounding less horse.
“Well, the men in blue waiting outside would like to ask that very question of you, my dear,” said the nurse. “It’s not everyday an entire family is found hacked to pieces with an axe. Of course it doesn’t help that your namesake did something similar a hundred years ago, Ms. Borden…”
@rbwood
“I’m just feeling a little blue, that’s all.” Sarah’s voice sounded small in the dark bedroom this morning. I was running late and raced through the house getting ready for work.
“Do you want me to call your office again, honey?” I wanted to be helpful, but never really knew how to deal with Sarah’s waves of depression. When they took hold it seemed all I could do was hang on and ride them out.
I had no idea how heavily life weighed upon her.
I’d tried calling her twice before lunch. I figured she was asleep or hoped vainly that she was in the shower.
When she didn’t answer at all after lunch, I left the office and headed home.
She’d cleaned up before she’d gone. The house was immaculate. As if she didn’t want me to be embarrassed to let people in afterward I started making the calls.
Even the bathroom was sparkling and fresh. She took care to keep her slit wrists inside the tub and under the water.
@corinneoflynn
Corinne OFlynn recently posted..atozchallenge -U for Ugsome
Everyone left, quickly.
Harold realized he was the last person on Earth while standing outside the theater waiting for the box office to open. It wasn’t unusual for the girl who worked the booth to arrive late. Her eyes were perpetually squinted behind her cat eyed glasses and Harold swore he saw an extended tongue slip out of her mouth to capture an anxious fly that buzzed around her microphone. They had gone to school together and neither had cared for the other. Now, with his bulbous nose pressed against the scratched plexi-glass, Harold wondered if he would ever see her again.
“It isn’t that bad being completely alone.” Harold would repeat the phrase whenever he came across a billboard or bus ad with giant, flat smiling faces beaming down on him.
In a way he actually believed it. There was so much left undone from everyone who had disappeared. He spent hours piling up the cell phones in plastic bags and days putting the plastic bags in boxes which he carefully buried in places he knew he would never walk past again. Harold was amazed at all the clothes, never worn, and the food, unopened, that he had to dispose of. It was tiresome work but he enjoyed it immensely.
Several years after the last time he thought about the ticket girl who reminded him of a toad, he came upon a pond of clear blue water, filled with croaking frogs and fish jumping to catch invisible treats out of the air. He took a long, slow sip from the stream that fed it, and laid his head down, knowing that he had completed the job they had left him.
@robertstories
Even with the pre-dawn cold, our climb to altitude was still slow. With all four engines going at max power, the whole bird shook as we edged higher and higher. We climbed almost with the dawn, with the Sun breaking the dark to give way to gradients of blue high above and below. Puffy cumulus clouds started to appear halfway through our outbound leg. We danced around teasing through their wisps amongst the azure fields of high altitude.
Then we reached the city and the sky darkened with black specks of flak. A few minutes of sheer terror as we had to fly straight and level at constant speed for our bomb run, then a tight turn 8,000 pounds lighter, and we were headed home.
Back across the empty blue plain between Germany and England; we could just relax and enjoy the view.
@D_PaulAngel
D. Paul Angel recently posted..FridayFlash- An Eighth of Copper
Blue.
How could that have happened, she thought. And then the realization set in.
Candon Rouge was no longer an employee of Dunetech Industries. She looked up from the wrist band she was wearing to see if anyone around he had noticed. All around she saw gold wrist bands. Except hers. Hers was now blue. Blue meant she was a prolie. Someone who lived off the state with no commercial insurance.
Shit, I’m already going paranoid. The rail-port lobby was crowded with people trying to get out of the city and home from work. Candace had to think fast if she was going to make it home. Her reduced insurance status would immediately disqualify her from using standard transportation.
Her earpiece started sounding and her communications pad began to vibrate. She did a quick glance, knowing what she would find, to see that cancellation emails were arriving from various entities. Her gym membership was put on a warning status, her utilities rates would rise (if she was even able to remain in the tiny apartment she now rented), and she didn’t know how she would get home.
@redshirt6
Blue
Lying on her back Jenna could feel the heat of the sun warmed sand penetrating her towel. Even with her sunglasses on she shaded her eyes as she looked up into the cloudless blue sky.
A plane cut silently across the sky, so high the light of the sun reflected off its belly and the vapour trail bisected the endless space.
“Where were they all going?”
She wondered, which far off land would the plane touch down on and in daylight or night birth the tired, harried human cargo to the tarmac.
Sighing she closed her eyes, it didn’t matter, her own adventures were confounded, her life reduced in ever tightening circles by the growing life that rested in a mound under her hands.
She well understood why her grandma described it as being “caught”, that she was. Her life changing moment by moment as the sand drifting in the dunes next to her, or the plane in the sky above.
But like the travellers in the metal bird her pregnancy was just the journey to a new adventure.
Sighing again she patted her stomach and smiled to herself and went back to thinking of names.
Ruth @summerlandc recently posted..Green Glass Magpie Monday
The world around her felt heavy, damp. A thick blanket of cold sweat. She wondered how a loss could feel so dense. She has denied it all until now, but it beckoned to her, made her sit up straight and listen. She took a deep breath and tasted the wind. It flew through her teeth leaving her cold and unhappy.
Blue. It pressed into her from all sides. She couldn’t run from it because the very sky held it’s true form, mocking her every hope of happiness. It was the blue, the blue tint in the grass and the blue feel of dew. She wanted to crush it all, but there was no hope. It would be the blue that would hide in her heart forever.
Jennifer Bennett recently posted..The infernal book list
Life used to be in color. Now everything is shades of blue. Pale, muted, washed out blue. Everything the same. The color left just like everyone else. And I am alone. I trail my fingers along the walls, the marble cold. I stop and press my cheek against the wall. It feels good. Something different. Different is good. Too soon the marble warms beneath me and with a sigh I move on. The corridor stretches out before me. I will walk all day and still not reach the end. I’ve been walking for months. Someday I may reach the room where all the colors are kept. Someday I may not be alone. Until then I keep walking.
S.P. Bowers recently posted..Allergic
Everything around him was blue. A deep, dark blue. It was cold, as well, a wet cold that seemed to reach into his very bones. It took a moment to realize that he couldn’t breathe. He thrashed, sending bubbles around him as he struggled against the bonds that held him down.
Water. That was the blue. Water. But that wasn’t why he couldn’t breath. Something was covering his mouth. He struggled again. Why couldn’t he turn his neck enough to see?
He kicked and thrashed, pushing himself backwards, and kicking up sand. So he was at the bottom of some place. That would help. But pushing up didn’t seem to work. Whatever he was tied to, it was heavier than him.
His chest started to tighten. He could feel the blood pushing harder to get what little oxygen there was left around his body. His head started to ach.
He pushed harder, and bumped against something. Pushing again, he felt his hands scrape against something rough. It cut, but it didn’t hurt in the haze of pain he was already feeling. He moved his arms around and stated to rub against the sharp thing that cut him. He wasn’t sure whatever bonded him would cut, but he worked hard at the rubbing. Eventually, it did snap, and he flung his arms up and pushed himself towards the surface.
He pushed, with his legs and arms, but all he saw was blue. How far down was he? He pushed again. Blue and more blue, and it seemed that the blue was trying to keep him down.
His vision was blurring, and he could feel water enter his lungs through his nose and mouth. It was like liquid fire. He had to reach the surface. Had to.
The blue started turning black. Darker and darker, until he felt that everything would become black. Suddenly, he felt his hand break through the water. Air! He shoved again, with what little strength he had left, and broke the surface. He took gasping breaths, coughing out the water as much as taking air in. His whole body was on fire, but he was greatful for it. Pain meant he was still alive.
Alive, and with a single desire. A desire to find out whoever had stuck him on the bottom of the ocean, and repay the favor.
@blanchardauthor
Chris Blanchard recently posted..I GET to do some Hard Work!
The last few strokes brought him to the beach. Sand underfoot at last. In the distance, the ship’s bow saw the sun before disappearing forever.
He turned to the ragged man who seemed the only inhabitant of the scrap of an island.
“Am I the only one who made it?”
The ragged man nodded. “Yeah, only one. Only one.”
“How long you been here?” He asked. “Are you alone?”
The ragged man didn’t answer but only indicated to follow.
Soon they were in a labyrinth of debris, salvaged from some earlier wreck – or wrecks.
The ragged man sat and he did too. That’s when he saw there were others there. They were resting. Sleeping away the heat of the sun.
The ragged man nodded. He slid over to get a glimpse of the others. Then recoiled. “What the fuck, they’re wrapped in plastic. They’re fucking blue!”
From behind him a sheet of thick poly covered his face. He choked and gasped for air.
The final thing he saw was the deep tropical sky that stretched above like a blue shroud.
@timqueeney
timqueeney recently posted..Comment on Selling fast food abroad comes with pitfalls- experts say by Robbix
“Shoot it!” I screamed, the joy in my voice popping like bubbles against the blue of the sky.
Harold the squirrel zig zagged across the garden, clearly taking defensive maneuvers. He’d stolen his last tomato, destroyed his last patch of sorrel. The expert marksman I’d hired would make sure of it.
The ping of a bb whizzed past my ear, barely missing me – an inch, perhaps two – and it missed Harold by a few feet. I’d named the thing Harold, deciding I should be on a first-name basis with the thing that had systematically decimated my vegetable garden. Other squirrels inhabited the trees around my house, but I knew it was Harold; he sported a distinctive white Mohawk in the center of his tiny, evil head.
“To the bunkers!” Miles, my neighbor down the street, had turned into a one-man squirrel killing machine over the last several years. I wasn’t sure if Harold had been responsible for pilfering all the black walnuts in his yard, but I’d heard stories – he’d single-handedly relocated four dozen of the tree rats from our neighborhood, kindly dropping them at the nature preserve ten miles down the highway. Sadly, those squirrels somehow made their way back and brought friends. Our street was overrun with squirrels of all types – babies, black furred varieties, big ones, little ones – all intent on wreaking havoc. He’d eventually switched to a gun, something no one wanted: we were all big into PETA.
Or we had been until the invasion began anew this year.
We crouched behind the rain barrel, and Miles took aim as Harold performed a tight rope display worthy of the circus. Another sharp ping sounded from the gun, Miles fist pumping when the fat squirrel dropped off the phone line.
“Oh my god, you did it!” I squealed, pounding him on the shoulder.
We stood, ready to dispose of Harold’s carcass – I’d planned a fitting burial: dressing him in miniature devil ears and burying him under a new tomato plant. We both froze.
Harold rolled to his feet on the hood of my car and peed, a triumphant expression on his face. A second later he raced off . . . but not before snagging the final tomato from the vine.
Twitter: @nicolewolverton
Nicole recently posted..For the Love of the Serial Comma
Time and space stretched, receded, and sprang back into shape for the last time.
Crowding around the one small porthole in the floor, the refugees elbowed each other, jockeying for position.
“Is it blue?” someone yelled from the back, restraining himself from dogpiling on top of those who had won a position where they could see.
“I don’t see a planet at all…”
“Are you sure this jump was taking us to a system?”
“They knew it was the last jump. It has to have a planet.”
Too many voiced added their opinion.
“Wait- we’re rotating… or something. I see…”
“Clouds!” Another voice chimed in, and the crowd speculation overwhelmed any coherent communication.
“Let him through! Let the doctor through… he can tell.”
The crowd hushed to the level of murmurs and worry, but those surrounding the porthole made way for the grizzled veteran. He took a device out of his pocket, and aimed it at the planet below.
“It’s…” he stopped himself, not wanting to give false hope. “It’s blue!”
They had a planet with oxygen. Probably. They would survive.
Probably.
AmyBeth Inverness recently posted..Precious Time
And my Twitter is @jtotheill!
—
It didn’t look like any man that she had ever seen.
“Why is he so blue?”
Her mother leaned close as though to smell him, nostrils flaring like a frightened puffer, but she had no sense of smell. Neither did the Urchin – for nothing smelled underwater – but she moved nearer, too, with a delicate flip of her muscular tail. She could wreck or woo a sailor with that tail.
“He’s drowned.”
Her mother’s eyes were wide and blank as the underbelly of the black ship he’d come from.
“But why?”
“Because that’s what humans do.”
Jillian Kuhlmann recently posted..Mermaids Need Other Mermaids
Blue lights invaded the walls of my darkened living room. I laid on the floor, shivering, waiting.
I knew Sarah would squeel on me.
The blanket on my shoulders was still as wet and cold as the bottom of the lake.
If Ian didn’t pull me out. I would be gone by now.
I’d be in the heavens the pastor talks about from his pulpit on Sundays.
The door burst open in an explosion of light and just for a moment I imagined that I was looking through the tunnel that would take me to the blue forever.
“She’s in here!” was shouted by someone who clearly could have been a DJ on the radio. What a waste of talent, I thought, as he scooped me up into his arms and carried me out the front door. My arms fell out of my blanket and hung limp at my sides.
Light, all I could see were the blue lights from the police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks.
Maybe I was dead. Maybe this was my blue forever. I allowed myself to drift off to sleep and the last thing I remember is hearing the voices of the people I was leaving behind, calling my name. Calling me back.
Leah’s grandmother called her outside to sit with her on the porch swing. She hadn’t been happier since Leah moved in with her only a few months ago. Made her feel useful in a way that she hadn’t felt in years. Sad how once you get older, the people in your life take you for granted.
At least she was being useful. At least Leah could use her for something.
Leah laid down on the porch swing, her head resting in her grandmother’s lap. They sat there, staring out into the beautiful day.
“The sky has never looked so blue,” Leah muttered, sighing as her grandmother stroked her hair.
“Oh, baby. I’ve seen some beautiful skies in my life. Some bluer than this one. Just be happy it’s blue.”
She could feel Leah’s head nod in agreement on her lap.
“I wonder if the sky is this blue where Carter is.”
Leah sounded so far away when she said this. Her grandmother paused for only a second and started stroking her hair again. “Would it matter? You aren’t there to see it.”
“I know…it isn’t that I don’t want to be.”
“You ready to tell me what happened, sugar?” her grandmother questioned.
Leah merely sighed. “He doesn’t want children. How could I fall in love with someone who doesn’t want children?”
“You can’t help who you love, sugar,” her grandmother’s soft voice replied. “And running away doesn’t solve anything. How do you know if he’ll change if you’re here with me and he’s back there?”
She felt the wetness of her granddaughter’s tears on her skirt. “He doesn’t want children, Gran. What more can I do? If he had more of an open mind, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Did you talk to him?”
Leah was silent.
Deep down, she knew she didn’t try hard enough. Leah held on to her stomach, rubbing the skin that protected her baby. She couldn’t help but remember the explosion of feelings she felt the moment he said he didn’t want children. It ruined her. Turned her whole world upside down. Made her sadder than sad to leave him…
But, she did what she had to.
“I’m scared, Gran,” she finally admited on a sob. “I’m scared love just isn’t enough to fix this one.”
Her grandmother didn’t press her to talk further. Instead, she pulled her grandchild closer, allowing her to get out the tears. And there she tried to comfort Leah under the clear blue sky.
Blue.
I spend too much time blue. I tug at my sleeves and my collar to hide the patterns my flesh revealed. Too many would know just what they meant and ask me to attempt something I’m not strong enough to manage.
Blue.
Purple.
Ugly green.
All the stages of the “love” he feels for me.
Blue. Black. Purple. My melancholy made of some dark end of the spectrum.
Some day.
Yes. Some day.
But not know. Not yet.
I’m not strong enough.
Blue.
@aislingweaver
Aisling Weaver recently posted..Signs
There was never anything to do in our little town, so we would take turns driving around – seeing what kind of trouble we could find. Of course, for us, four female highschool honor students, trouble had a very different meaning, but we thought we were tough. To prove it, we listened to Red Hot Chili Peppers as loud as the speakers would go, and rolled down the windows to share our taste in music with the world.
“Twinkle twinkle little star, shining down on my blue car drivin’ down the boulevard.” I screamed the line at the top of my lungs, after all, my care WAS blue.
Once the song was over, I turned the radio back down and pulled the car over. “So, where am I driving?”
Blank stares from my friends meant I was going to have to make the decision. Again.
“We can’t just go to the mall. Besides we did that last night.”
Shrugs were all I got in answer. Did I mention that we were all college-bound? Smart bunch, but nobody wanted to make a decision.
Almost as a dare, I made my suggestion: “Why don’t we go drive around the state hospital?”
The state hospital was an abandoned mental hospital that was a regular source of gossip and speculation. We were convinced it had to be haunted, but hadn’t ever investigated. This wasn’t the kind of trouble my friends and I usually sought, and I was trying to goad them into coming up with an idea, so I was completely unprepared when Kristy answered. “Yeah, let’s.” She had a big grin on her face.
I drove slowly, hoping that one of my friends would stop me. None of the honor students did.
No, it was a police siren and lights behind my car that stopped me. I was shaking as I pulled over. Trespassing was real trouble, as in illegal. I didn’t want to ruin my chances at a scholarship. I prayed silently as I rolled the window down.
“Are you lost?” I turned to face the speaker and sighed in relief.
“Hi, Dad.”
“You’re lost, aren’t you, hon? Otherwise I’d have to take you and the girls to the station. Tell me you’re lost and turn the car around.”
Reaching for the ignition, I nodded, thanking my father and his blue uniform.
@olinj
Jessica Olin recently posted..olinj- Im surprised that @LeahPetersens e-fish arent fatter- what with all the food her blog visitors give them
I’ve never seen such lack of color before. It was the first thing I noticed after I woke up. I expected to see bright lights, and dark shadows, but these were not…the same. There were areas where the lightness was brighter, and the shadows were darker, but they weren’t the hues I was used to. I closed my eyes for another moment, but the sound of footsteps encouraged me to open my eyes again.
“Ah. I see you’re awake. I’m glad to see that. Do you remember what happened?” I stared at the doctor in shock. I suspected I was in a hospital, I’ve seen enough movies to know what happens when you wake up in a daze with bright lights in your face. This was wrong though. He was completely black and white. He took out a small flashlight and shone the light directly into my right eye, and then my left. “Your concious…can you hear me? Do you remember what happened?”
“Uhm…” My mind came up with several images in rapid succession. A screech of tires, a few terrified screams. The sound of some container rupturing and liquid flooding onto concrete. “A…a car accident I think. It happened so suddenly.” I croaked out finally.
“Excellent. Luckily you sustained the most damage, which is hardly anything at all, and you can be released soon.”
“I don’t understand! Why can’t I see anymore colors?”
The doctor’s faced shifted rapidly to sympathy. “We thought this might have happened. You suffered a bit of brain damage. Nothing that we can really do about it, the injury was so minor…but…it affected the region of your brain that is associated with the optical nerves. I’m afraid that your brain can no longer process colors.”
The rest of the hospital passed by in a blur. Phantom colors posessed every object I passed by, but I couldn’t keep any of them for long. When I was released, I looked around, and saw a couple gazing at the sky in happiness.
“The sky is so pretty today honey!”
“Mmm hmm.”
I looked up, and it was no longer blue.
Britta smoothed back her hair as she stared in the mirror. This was it. Today was the day. She couldn’t believe she’d made it through all of the pre-interviews, the background checks, the exam, everything… except the last, and most important interview. Her entire future was on the line. Okay, maybe not, she told herself, staring intently into her own eyes. You will survive if you don’t get this job. The butterflies in her stomach weren’t listening, though.
The bathroom was tiny, but well-appointed. Glossy, marble countertop, cool ceramic faucet with the motion sensors to conserve water. The walls were a pale green and there were two soothing watercolors hung perfectly. This was the kind of thing she wanted. Sure it was small, but so much nicer than the four stall, prefab, always sort of dirty bathroom at her current job. She belonged here. She deserved to be here. She had worked hard and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.
Nodding her head once more she reached over and flushed the toilet. There was a strange gurgling noise as it flushed and then suddenly a loud sucking sound and the toilet exploded water back into the room and all down the front of Britta’s neatly pressed blazer and pencil skirt. She stared down at herself in horror at the blue flecks on her beige outfit.
Stupid bowl cleaner.
She tried to blot it up, but that only made things worse. Her stomach knotted in despair as she lifted her purse off the hook and opened the door. Knocking tentatively on the office door, Britta raised her chin as she entered the room, trying to ignore the splatters across her clothes.
A petite woman sat across from a neatly appointed mahogany desk. She smiled and then raised her eyebrows.
Britta opened her mouth to explain, but the woman smiled. “I see you’ve gone through the trial by water,” she quipped, standing up to show matching blue splatters across her pink blouse. “Welcome to the company.”
@SonshineMusic
That’s it, chickens! (I heard that in a movie once. I think one of those really old ones. Maybe it wasn’t an insult to call someone chicken back then.)
Have fun? I did! I’m so excited to see so many entries, and I’ve already read some fantastic ones.
Back at 3 with the finalists!
Leah Petersen recently posted..Blog Streak! or Thea Atkinson Being Inappropriate
“Are you up for a little geocaching?” he asked with a hopeful, boyish expression.
She sighed internally, but smiled sweetly and replied, “Sure. But will you clean the mud off my shoes when we’re done? That’s my only hang-up here.”
He laughed with pleasure and tousled her hair. “You and your hang-ups. It’s my goal in life to break you of each and every one of them, you know.”
She opened the car door to stepped out into the parking lot of the community park. She felt bad not being more enthusiastic about his ideas whenever he would first introduce them, but she had to admit, she’d covered more unknown territory with him as a guide than she’d ever have alone.
He made life interesting; made her interesting. She worried that at some point he’d finally lose interest or get tired of pulling her along on his adventures.
“Okay so we need to head around to the woods on the other side of the lake,” he said as he fiddled with the GPS, locked the doors and came around to take her hand in his.
“I think we’re gonna find something really special today… I can just feel it,” he mused, with contagious enthusiasm.
They headed off into the middle of the woods. With mud, and stickers, and dirt on her knees she bent down to the spot in a tree knot hole and pulled out the capsule. It was the size of gumball machine prize.
He was riveted. She opened it up and held up the prize in shock. A three carat sapphire in a platinum setting: the deepest, most peaceful blue she’d ever seen.
“Is this a mistake?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Only if you say no to the question that goes with it.”
http://shortandtweetreviews.blogspot.com/
Ann Mauren recently posted..Panic at the Rainbow Car Wash & Spa
Didn’t want to miss the deadline AGAIN, so I clicked “Post Comment” without adding my twitter: olinj
Jessica Olin recently posted..olinj- Im surprised that @LeahPetersens e-fish arent fatter- what with all the food her blog visitors give them
“Dad. There’s a Ty-D-Bol man boating in our toilet again.”
“Did he turn the water blue?”
“Yes.”
“Flush, son. Just flush.”
@thatneilguy
That Neil Guy recently posted..The Vampire Lestat
Loving this process! Even if what you crank out here on Tuesdays isn’t a complete story/scene image, it is fantastic to push the gray matter to the point that it begins to sizzle and pop! Mmmmm… pleasant rush once again! rs6
Only got this about a half hour ago..so, I’m late for the 1:45 cut off, but thought I’d give it a shot:
She was gasping for breath on the floor.
Her mother had said “If you hold your breath like that, you’ll turn blue! Stop it! Stop it I said!…fine..have your own way. Turn blue, see if I care. Look like a blueberry!”
Her mother leaned over and pinched her nose tight, and placed her hand over her mouth. Even if she wanted to breath, she didn’t think she could. The hand was too tight, placed in such away that her lips were pinched shut as well as covered. Her nose was closed, like what she thought it was like when her father would use pliers on something, a vise grip too great to give any little bit.
She wanted to bite, to scream but nothing…NOTHING..was coming that way. She clawed her mother’s hand and arms, and still there was no release. Her chest was pounding, and her ears began to hurt, and pAnIc PanIC started to set inandshethoughtshereallywasgoingtodieand this..huhghghh…huhmmm cakckk…this…was….
She was on the floor, gasping for breath. She couldn’t see the color of her face, but she thought it had to be blue.
@StuStoryteller
Tale Spinning at http://www.stuartnager.wordpress.com/
OH..forgot…my twit name is StuStoryteller and my writing blog is Tale Spinning at http://www.stuartnager.wordpress.com/
Glad you liked it, Red. And Thanks for playing Stuart, even if you couldn’t do it earlier, I’m glad you posted anyway.
Leah Petersen recently posted..Because I Tricked Them Into Thinking I’m Interesting… I’m Guest Posting Today!