Dear dedicated readers,
I have decided to participate as a new Fictioneer in Madison Woods‘s FridayFlash. To my understanding, flash fiction is an exercise for creative writers that allows them to play with words and ideas in a very limited space (sometimes up to 500 words, but generally less). Being concise improves word choice and sometimes diction. Trying to write a story in only a few words or paragraphs pushes our creative buttons, shifting us into a higher imaginative gear.
*The FridayFlash is a bunch of bloggers writing 100-word pieces in response to a picture posted by Madison Woods on her Thursday blog. (Sometimes the flash is longer, because 100 words are very few, but in this, my first attempt, I was strict with myself).
This week’s photo:
For my 21st birthday, my mother collected 17 stones.
“Don’t open the box.”
I asked if she was really giving me a gift I couldn’t open. She just fiddled rearranging the colored glass shards on the counter, mumbling pungent, pungent.
That night, she disappeared. The box smelled grief-stricken.
Later, non-smells would waft from it – flatness, joy, Fur Elise – nothing I could understand, everything I could name. I hated the box. I hated the birthday stones.
When I finally opened it, I plunged into lemons and sunshine, blazing trumpets and death like steel.
I gave it away before I disappeared, too.