Flash Fiction: Grand Escape

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I am an artifact marble from the Ozarks, property of the Bluff-Dwellers. (This information was provided by Madison Woods and the Marble, Herself).

The little stone sat on the table, taking in the drab room. She had been a plaything before, a marble.

Now, humanity was austere and busy – no time for frivolous games.

She missed the caress of a child’s hand, the banging echo of a crowded marbles pouch. She missed the thrill of rolling across packed earth in a race of precision.

When the little boy rushed in, she hoped, and when he threw his backpack into her, she was knocked to the floor. She zoomed then, unnoticed, through the still-open door and bounced down the steps.

She was free.

For more stories prompted by this image, visit Madison Woods and explore the rest of the Friday Fictioneers!

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18 responses »

  1. Never thought of telling the story from the marble’s perspective. And what a truth you’ve pointed out about the ‘busy-ness’ of our society these days!

  2. Hey Lime,

    Very well done. I like that you gave the stone life, for, as you know, I believe they live as we do.

    I have a feeling that the boy will find her again after he’s gotten tired of his Playstation. In the meantime, the stone has a new view of the outside. They’re very patient.

    Yours,

    Doug

  3. Hee! I loved how you told the story from the marble’s point of view. And I love the end of it — instead of feeling sad, the marble feels free. Marbles, after all, rock and roll, since they’re round!

    This put a smile on my face. 🙂

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