So Raven Pendrax on Google Plus had a wonderful idea last week. Twitter-sized fiction. You can read about it Here.
Her idea was simple. Flash Fiction in one-hundred forty words or less. Her prompt was even more interesting. Cow Spit. So, I attempted it and here is the result.
It's What's For Dinner
We sat on cracked green vinyl chairs. I
picked at the stuffing. Our scratched dining table seemed so tall. I
remember my father setting our plates in front of us.
"It looks like tongue. What are the bumps?" I poked the blob with my fork. It jiggled.
"Just
try it." I could tell by his tone that my dad was already frustrated. I
stuck a tiny bit on my fork and brought it to my mouth. I tried to chew
it the rubber bouncing around my mouth. I swallowed to get rid of it
faster.
"You ate cow spit, did it taste like grass? You've got
cow germs." My little brother couldn't resist making it much worse. I
felt the rise in my stomach and darted for the bathroom even as his
childish laughter trailed behind me.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Twitter-sized fiction via Raven Pendrax
So Raven Pendrax on Google Plus had a wonderful idea last week. Twitter-sized fiction. You can read about it Here.
Her idea was simple. Flash Fiction in one-hundred forty words or less. Her prompt was even more interesting. Cow Spit. So, I attempted it and here is the result.
It's What's For Dinner
We sat on cracked green vinyl chairs. I picked at the stuffing. Our scratched dining table seemed so tall. I remember my father setting our plates in front of us.
"It looks like tongue. What are the bumps?" I poked the blob with my fork. It jiggled.
"Just try it." I could tell by his tone that my dad was already frustrated. I stuck a tiny bit on my fork and brought it to my mouth. I tried to chew it the rubber bouncing around my mouth. I swallowed to get rid of it faster.
"You ate cow spit, did it taste like grass? You've got cow germs." My little brother couldn't resist making it much worse. I felt the rise in my stomach and darted for the bathroom even as his childish laughter trailed behind me.
Her idea was simple. Flash Fiction in one-hundred forty words or less. Her prompt was even more interesting. Cow Spit. So, I attempted it and here is the result.
It's What's For Dinner
We sat on cracked green vinyl chairs. I picked at the stuffing. Our scratched dining table seemed so tall. I remember my father setting our plates in front of us.
"It looks like tongue. What are the bumps?" I poked the blob with my fork. It jiggled.
"Just try it." I could tell by his tone that my dad was already frustrated. I stuck a tiny bit on my fork and brought it to my mouth. I tried to chew it the rubber bouncing around my mouth. I swallowed to get rid of it faster.
"You ate cow spit, did it taste like grass? You've got cow germs." My little brother couldn't resist making it much worse. I felt the rise in my stomach and darted for the bathroom even as his childish laughter trailed behind me.
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