Matt Adamik
Flash Fiction

Fire Fight

This poem was written for the #3lineThursday challenge and received an Honorable Mention nod. Judge’s Thoughts below are courtesy of the generous Janelle Segarra.

Octane charged recriminations spew
Spittle seasoned with resentment and Bourbon peppers us
Psyches blister, lose another layer

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“I CHOSE THIS POEM FOR ITS FERVOR AND INTENSITY.  I WAS PULLED IN BY THE STRONG WORDING AND IMMENSELY POWERFUL IMAGERY.  I LOVE THE WAY THE FIRST TWO LINES ARE IGNITED, HOWEVER , THE LAST LINE SEEMS TO ADMIT THE COMING OF DEFEAT.  THAT LAST LINE ESSENTIALLY RELINQUISHES A BIT OF THE POWER DISPLAYED IN LINES ONE AND TWO.  THE FIRST TWO LINES ARE BLATANTLY VISUAL WHEREAS THE LAST LINE IS MORE POETICALLY EXPLANATORY IN THAT YOU CANNOT ACTUALLY SEE A PSYCHES DAMAGE AND LOSE A LAYER BUT YOU UNDERSTAND THAT BECAUSE OF THE ACTIONS IN LINES ONE AND TWO, LINE THREE IS THE UNWANTED BUT NATURAL OUTCOME. THE FIRST TWO LINES ARE CONTENTIOUS WHICH TYPICALLY SIGNIFIES THE PASSION AND HOPE ARE STILL THERE, CONVERSELY THOUGH, THAT LAST LINE INFORMS US THAT LAYERS HAVE PREVIOUSLY BEEN LOST, AND WITH THIS FIERY EXCHANGE, ANOTHER IS LOST.  ONE CAN GATHER THAT THERE AREN’T MANY LAYERS LEFT TO LOSE.”

JUDGE’S THOUGHTS

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Flash Fiction

Reel Them In

This is a submission for Monday’s Finish the Story challenge. Write a story of 100-150 words excluding the first line provided and incorporating the photo prompt.

fools lake

Copyright – Barbara W Beacham

Dropping her line into Fool’s Lake she patiently waited for something to bite, casting out the negative thoughts and doubts that constantly swam through her mind and nibbled at the edge of her consciousness. She had never tried her luck here before, always sticking with what she knew and using proven bait. As she teetered and swayed slightly, absorbing the waves of heat from overhead and begging for even the faintest ripple, time seemed to stop. Then, mercifully, the strike came. They laughed! This wasn’t just an obligatory,head shaking ‘Man, do I feel sorry for her’ type of chuckle either. The convention hall was filled with ‘I just about drowned in my cocktail’ kind of laughter. The joke she had worked on for weeks had hooked them. Now it was time to reel them in.

Click the frog to see stories from other writers who have accpeted the challenge this week and to submit your own.

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Flash Fiction

An Audition to Remember

Friday Fictioneers is a writing challenge hosted by the talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Writers from near and far use the photo prompt provided to create a 100 word piece of fiction. Click the frog below this post to add your own story and check out everyone’s submissions.

garden-maze

Copyright – Melanie Greenwood

I seem to be seeing the brain, specifically my mom’s brain, in every challenge lately.

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Her thoughts and movements were like a troupe of actors reinventing themselves, weaving through the maze of roles that were new and more difficult to them. Their greeness kept her trapped in a maddening script of continuous wrong turns. Lefts pretended to be rights and rights swore they were lefts. She shuffled and bumped into the shadowed corners of their stage, stuck until the faint memory shone through and illuminated her mark, briefly. When darkness returned, as it would today, tomorrow, and always, rehearsal began again. She’d practice, not knowing the curtain would fall before she ever perfected her part.

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Flash Fiction

Old Sparky

Friday Fictioneers is a writing challenge hosted by the talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Writers from near and far use the photo prompt provided to create a 100 word piece of fiction. Click the frog below this post to add your own story and check out everyone’s submissions.

electricity

Copyright Ted Strutz

“Don’t plug the damn thing in!” Riley screamed as he jumped out of the contraption nearly fumbling the instruction manual, and, truth be told, almost soiling his uniform.

Right now he missed Old Sparky, so easy to use and plenty of life left in him.

“Oh, sorry Boss” was all that his very own Barney Fife could say as he stood there daydreaming with the cord still too close to the juice for Riley’s liking. “Put that down. We aren’t there yet!”. “Once we’re ready to practice, I’ll let you know”.

“Boss, will I get to say ‘Dead man walking’?”

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Flash Fiction

Ignorance and Bliss

This was written for Monday’s Finish the Story challenge. 100-150 word limit starting with “She was unaware she was being watched..” and using the photo prompt for inspiration.

wolf

Copyright – Barbara W. Beacham

She was unaware she was being watched, no coveted, by those fierce, golden orbs. That which would end her, hidden and waiting. It was probably for the best. Given an option of knowing or not knowing she always said she would choose the former and did. Always safe in the certain. Ignorance of what would be finally allowed her to live fully, even if briefly. Terror and the stabbing pain of her organs trying to win the race could have been the last thing she felt. Instead, as she navigated her way through the final minutes of beats and breath without a compass, nothing but bliss.

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