Dennis, the Daredevil

No Swimming
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Dennis, the Daredevil



“Is this going to be safe?” repeating myself for the umpteenth time.

“Who you kidding? Dennis replied.  “Look at those fiberglass posts. They just pushed’em in the sand ‘cause they wanted the lifeguard to have the weekend off.

“Man, you’re joking?”

“Why are you such a chicken?”

“I know the difference between courage and stupidity.”

“They always say there’s such a fine line there. ‘Sides, by tomorrow, we’ll be web celebrities. These waves could be the most monstrous waves of the surfing season.”

“Hence, the warning signs?”

“Just role the film. What difference does it make to you? You’re here on the beach. I’m the one hanging.”

With that, Dennis began paddling toward the foam-filled crests and I unpacked the tripod and began setting up my Sony NXCAM.

The churning in my stomach gyrated with the waves pounding the beach.

On days like today, there was no talking Dennis down.



Written for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #20. Requirements: Using the provided photo prompt, create a 200 word flash story.

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Not the Last Hurrah

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It was just there…

Behind the huge spruces at the edge of Grandpa’s land.

I had walked these trails since childhood, but I had never went past the spruces.

Bojo had apparently treed a rabbit under this … this classic.

It was love at first sight.

 

This had to be the car that Gramps had used to court Grandma.

He had told us of his marron two-tone every winter during vacations.

His stories had peaked my interest in automotive-engineering.

Gramps had even joked I would be a lucky lad to drive his coupe.

“Tracy, I believe that you will be able to court your true love in that coupe someday.”

“Not likely, Gramps. I’ll never stumble upon a vintage classic to match what you’re describing.”

“You never know, lad.”

 

Yesterday, we had laid Gramps to rest under the oaks in our family plot.

The last thing Gramps and I had done was go and purchase Bojo… .

Gramps must have noticed my bitter-sweet feelings: elated with Bojo and the chance to train him, but aware that this was probably the last adventure we would share.

Gramps looking at me, without me saying a word… “This won’t be our last hurrah, lad. We still have a ways to go.”



Written for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #19 . Requirements: Using the photo prompt, create a 200 word flash fiction story.

Where’s Garfunkel?

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“Time travel is more awesome than I thought.” Melba was so excited with her first day visiting the Iroquois village.

“At first, I didn’t think I would like the mash-stews, but the freshly-picked herbs and spices from the fields made it delicious,” responded Gila when it was his turn.

“You are all very well behaved. I am proud of your initial encounter with time travel.” Ms. Dreems was clearly pleased with her students.

“Even Garfunkel enjoyed himself.” Marvin did not await his turn. “Garfunkel loved the size of the native corn-rats. I believe he found them appealing to his discriminating tastes a well.”

“You allowed Garfunkel to wander?” Ms. Dreems was no longer pleased. “Does anyone know if our calico made it back on board?”

“Last I saw him, Garfunkel was tanning himself in the warmth of the sun,” replied Marvin.



Written for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #18. Requirements: Using the provided photo prompt, create a flash fiction story of under 200 words.

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When Cows Jump

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“Higher, Grandpa. Higher!” Felicia squealed.

“This is enough, dear.” Grandpa Shilling placed the spool back in her hand. “It’s windier than I anticipated. If your kite soars much higher, a mighty gust might take it from your hands.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Yes, and Miss Bessy is a grand present from Abner. But you know you’re on your solo flight. You’ve never had Miss Bessy up without Abner here. The winds are stronger than you think.”

“I’m going to walk the field and try some of the tricks Abner showed me.”

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Grandpa smiled. Even though his granddaughter was three years younger than her brother, she would never allow Abner much boasting room.  “Don’t go near the trees.”

As Felecia walked her new Easy-Fly across the meadow, she allowed Miss Bessy to pirouette its way across the sky.” Her beautiful cow-inspired kite was performing magnificently.

Felicia allowed more line to be withdrawn and suddenly Bessy had a mind of her own. With one mighty gust, Miss Bessy dived head-on into the outlying treetops.

Felecia plopped to the ground as Grandpa came and knelt.

“Miss Bessy might be great at jumping the moon, but today… she didn’t clear the trees.” Grandpa chuckled.



Written for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #14. Requirements: Create a 200 word (or less) flash Fiction story developed using the picture prompt as your muze.

Cooperative Learning

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Ms. Switzerman’s class is awesome. I love World Geography.

Everything in class is team-building. Class has a dual-schedule: A-days and B-days. Each of the two days is with a different group.

Andrea is my partner on A-days. We work great together. She’s a cheerleader and everything she does gets a gold star. She is soooo smart. She knew when we were talking about the Middle East that we needed to use a world map and not just the United States map. Her boyfriend showed her where the Middle East was going to be.

Josey, her boyfriend, is stationed over there.

He left four weeks ago… just as the new school year started.

He’s older than me, of course. I’m a tenth grader. Anna is older than me, too.

I think that’s why she is soooo smart. She’s had Ms. Switzerman’s class for three straight years.

When Ms. Switzerman asks questions, it’s like Anna knows what is going to happen in history ahead of time.

Anna said that this year’s geography class is a lot easier than her first time.

That makes sense.

I think Anna’s a lot like me when I practice my free-throws for basketball.

Practice will make perfect.



Written for FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018: WEEK #13. Requirements: Using the photo prompt provided create a 200 word (or less) flash fiction story.

See Ya, Sweet’ms

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Every shape and size… Almost all of them available.

I have traveled the canals… the gondola and the peata… Those were all I have ever ridden in as a tourist.

I need something larger … more recreational… and sea-worthy… enough for several nights.

I need a crew of four… at least… for possibly five days.

Chuckling, I reread Da’s final letter. He had been a treasure hunter all his life. Always on to the next big discovery.

“See ya, sweet’ms. It’ll only be for two… three weeks at the max. If this is the one, I’ll sent for ya.”  He would always hug me tight then and whisper, “We’ll soon get tired of seeing each other.” And then a quick kiss on the forehead and he was gone.

And now… He is gone.

He won’t be coming back.

And now I have this postcard was dispatched the day he passed.

The police say it was a diving accident with his mates.

All four mates. Never!


Angela,

“We’ll soon get tired of seeing each other.”

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See ya, soon.

Da


He had wanted me to come. His death was no accident, of that I was sure. I needed to finish what Da had started.



Written for FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018: WEEK #12. Requirements: Create a 200 word flash fiction story inspired by the photo prompt.

 

Unfair Diversions

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“Now, where’d those fuzzy slippers go?”

Frisky peered through the bannisters into the hall.

“They will not escape me this time. I hear them squishing on the floor of the kitchen.”

Cautiously descending the stairs… Frisky skulked toward the open doorway.

Using great stealth; back corner of the coat rack… behind the potted palm… swiftly crossing the hall… he hunkered at the casing of the kitchen door.

“Humming. A good sign. Distraction.”

Suddenly Frisky’s ears took a life of their own;  sounds swelled into a succulent aroma.

“Tuna!”

Like a bullet to his bowl… “I get those blasted slippers later.”



Written for Flash Fiction for The Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #11. Requirements: Create a flash fiction story using the picture prompt provided in 200 words or less.