Photo courtesy of Flash Fiction Hive. 

Good afternoon,

As one of my goals this month, I want to start posting more stories onto my blog. Fortunately, the Flash Fiction Hive on Twitter (@FlashFicHive) has been a big help to me. Though I haven’t written a lot of stories based on their prompts, they’ve at least provided the fuel for my creativity.

Today, the Hive presented a “Mix and Match” prompt. Here’s the result. I hope you enjoy it. 
Harold Starks strolled into his daughter’s school library. He brushed his too tight dress shirt and pulled up his wide slacks. As a cable repairman, wearing a uniform was no small feat. But a suit was near impossible. Still, he thought about the opportunity to observe his gifted daughter showing up the rest of the students.

Harold twisted his ring, ensuring the snug fit. The diamond shone in the artificial light. He knocked on the reception desk. The librarian, a dapper man in his late 40s, appeared startled. He looked around, wondering what made the rapping sound. Harold’s mouth froze open. What was the librarian thinking? He tapped on the desk again, and again the librarian turned his attention to the empty foyer. He shrugged and returned to filing the books on the return cart. 

“Excuse me,” Harold said. But the librarian kept working. Harold repeated his request in a more forceful tone. “Excuse me.”

The librarian dropped the books left to be filed. He approached the desk, inquisitive at who could be summoning him.

“Yes, my name is Harold Starks. I’m interested in applying for a position here.”

The librarian tilted his head. There were a pair of teachers behind the door chatting about something. He shrugged again and went about his business. Harold could feel the tension bubbling in him. He slammed his fist onto the desk. 

“Look,” Harold growled, “I know you hear me and I know you see me. Why are you ignoring me?”

Just then, another librarian, a woman as old as Harold approached her co-worker. 

“Who’s making all that noise?”

“I don’t know,” the gentleman replied. A trio of students walked by the back of the desk. The man asked if they were the source of the disruption. They said no and moved along. The librarian switched on the microphone. 

“Attention, students. This is a reminder that the library is a quiet area. There is to be no loud talking. That is all.”

Harold threw up his hands and left. As he left the library, he saw his daughter approach. He kneeled to hug her, but she passed through him. He looked back at her, confused at what he experienced. It was one thing being in an independent state, but it wasn’t like her to just ignore him. He walked to the boys’ restroom. He searched to see if anyone was around. Confirming the coast was clear, he struggled to remove the ring. Once he pulled it off, Harold manifested himself. The diamond lost its shine. His portly body sunk at his disappointment. He believed there was no way anyone would hire him in the shape he was in. 

First Kiss

Inspired by another prompt from Lori Carlson, this scene again takes place in an elevator, but under different circumstances. It should be noted that the names of the characters have been changed so as to not offend anyone. Enjoy.

Prompt: You’re stuck in an elevator with someone from your past. Write the scene. 

I ran to the elevator, hoping to catch it before it closed. Continue reading “First Kiss”

“Eye” Salute You

Lori Carlson wrote a scene on her Promptly Written blog, and I thought I would give it a try. 

Prompt: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write the scene.

As the elevator door closed, a hand wedged itself in between. It belonged to a grey-bearded man with a camouflage cap.  He looked at me like I was supposed to hold the door for him, or something. I was already running late for my appointment and didn’t want the hassle. The door closed and the elevator started moving. He didn’t press anything. There was no possible way he was getting off the same floor I was. 

There was a stench about him I couldn’t put my finger on. It was like a combination of pain cream and perspiration. I tried not to wretch. There was some rope wrapped around his corduroys. I couldn’t imagine that keeping them from falling down to his ankles. He then turned to me with those icy sad eyes. I tried not to make eye contact with him. Instead, I focused on the cap with stars lining the brim. He took the hat off, almost daring me to look at him. It was entrancing, borderline hypnotic. It was as if he wanted me to know his story without him saying a word. He walked toward me. I couldn’t move. He leaned to me with those eyes for what seemed like an eternity. 

The elevator bell rang. He stepped back and nodded his head. The door opened and he marched out. I stood bewildered.  The door closed, but I didn’t care.