Well, bless my soul . . .

. . . Would you look at that!

I've really been enjoying discovering and participating in this flash fiction phenomenon. I never knew anything about it until L introduced me. I've been posting my entries here on my blog along with the sites on which they're posted. Last week I only entered one contest but JenDAuthor's Friday Picture Show, always a fun one, turned out to be lucky for me. :-)

I won! (That's me you see there with a previously unused horn belonging to myself, which I am currently blowing.)

The results are posted and Jen - the judge for last week - had a lovely little review for me that I've read a couple (dozen) times. I must say, though, I didn't envy her her job as all the entries were well done. I wasn't the only winner. There were also four others which were just wonderful!

So the inevitable next question then is this: what do you win?
Bragging rights. (reads aforementioned horn tooting) Check!
Congratulations via twitter. (*blushes*) Check!
But best of all . . . drum-roll please! . . . I get to be judge for this week's Friday Picture Show!

I am so looking forward to it and am looking forward to seeing some great entries! Hopefully I'll see yours there!

Friday Picture Show 4-27-12

It was nothing but child’s play, meant to scare, yes, but not to harm. And she was frightened, but also exhilarated beyond measure. The tie was a farce, a mere representation. A small tug and she’d be free. No effort at all really, but she didn’t make it, refused to try. The rush in her skill, the galloping of her heart, the bright, no, blinding light in her eyes, and the prickle on her skin telling her they could see her, that they were all watching – it was too much. It was not enough. An actress was born this day.

Flash Fiction 4-19-12

My entry for the #ThursThreads this week. The prompt: "These vessels are not redeemable."

The Devil danced in the darkness of his own shadow. Only he cast one in the face of the Light, a fact which brought him immeasurable amount of perverse pleasure.

“Look at your creation. See how they reject him?” His joy couldn’t be contained. “See how they revel in the blood! How they laugh with each lick of the weapon in his flesh!” He licked his lips at the sight. Victory was so close. Every beat of the stake in the hands of his enemy was a pulse of life into his coming reign.

“Listen to their laughter. Hear their jeers.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the sound. When he opened them again he saw the Father turn away, His back to His Son. Darkness covered the whole Earth and he knew. The devil knew, after so many eons, he had won.

“All your planning was for naught!” he taunted, hand flung toward the crowd at the foot of the cross. “These vessels are not redeemable!” he shouted. “There are no vessels of glory, only vessels of wrath!”

“It is finished.” The words wafted up from the Mount of Calvary like sweet incense.

He bellowed his triumph to the host of angels and demons gathered. Heaven and earth trembled at his voice. Rocks cracked, the ground shook. For three days he celebrated.

On the third day the earth shook once more. A stone had been moved. The grave was empty. His head was crushed.

Failing at Friday Picture Show 4-13-12

So apparently Friday the 13th isn't my lucky day. I had my entry for the Friday Picture Show all written  and, between kids and . . . more kids, I forgot to post it.

Yes. Yes, I am an idiot.

I'm angry at myself, too, because this week's prize was a chance to have the winner's entry published in Haunted Waters Press's online literary publication.

Oh well. Here's my entry anyway.

The theme was all about what has been left behind. The picture prompt:

Time stopped. Anxiety clutched at her chest. Breathing became difficult. What should she do now?  This wasn’t in the plan. Wait. What was the plan? Status quo. Maintain. That’s always been the plan. But shouldn’t she want to move forward? But that meant abandoning the past.

She chewed her cheek. The past. Hmm. Past. Passed. As in, over, not coming back. She was moving forward whether she wanted to or not.

Leah looked at Roger, down on one knee in front of her, ring box open in his hand. He was awaiting her answer.

“Yes,” she smiled. “I’ll marry you.”

Menage Monday 4-9-2012

This is my entry for Cara Michael's weekly Menage Monday flash fiction contest. I hope you enjoy it!

Menage Monday can be found at: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2012/04/09/menagemonday-challenge-week-28/

This week's three prompts:

Phrase: "Too much damage"

Theme: pretending

Photo:

“Why are we moving, Mommy?” Lilly asked for the nine thousandth time.

“Because of the fire, sweetheart.” Her mother put more clothes in a bag without looking at her.

Lilly’s head carried visions of smoke, black clouds, darkness, but it all looked so far away. The nightmares of calling for her mom when she was scared didn’t come last night, though she’d expected them.

“But why?”

Her mother flitted around the room grabbing things and throwing them in the suitcases.

“Too much damage. Too much…”

Lilly’s eyes scanned the walls. Everything looked the same. “Where?”

Her mother’s eyes met hers for the first time. Purple and green were dark beneath her skin.

“Oh. I see it.”

Her mother sat beside her on the bed, gathering Lilly into her lap. She kissed the top of her head. “I guess you do, huh?”

Lilly climbed off her mother’s lap and picked up the biggest bag she could carry. She stood at the door and waited.

“What’s say we go somewhere we don’t have to pretend any more?”

“Does that mean I can’t be a princess any more?”

“Of course you can. That’s for real.”