50 Word Fiction

Blog It July Day #11
Tell us a story.

Above: Truth.

Hmm. You would think, considering that I studied writing in college and stuff, that I would be able to whip out a great story just like that. The sad truth is, I have hardly written for the last year. There are various reasons for this and I don't really want to go into them at the moment. What I will say is, I have been feeling a little fragile about my writing lately. (Sometimes I am actually glad that nobody reads this blog. What a relief.)

There's this cool website called Scottish Book Trust that has a monthly 50 word fiction competition. I haven't done all of them, but I've written a couple over the past few months. Here's a sampling:

The girl looks up at a papery sky. After such a long flight she craves fresh air, but she never imagined a chill so fierce! Snowflakes swirl around her and she reaches up, struck by the though that this new home, each tiny falling diamond, belongs to her. She smiles.

Have you been to Paris? He asks.
No.
Have you been to Spain? To Florida, New York or Panama?
I shake my head.
Where have you been?
A shrug, that's all. He doesn't know that everyday I'm waiting for wings to sprout. I would fly away and never come back.

Foot tapping, I wait for the train, running late, on my way to you in hospital. Please wait for me, I pray. Three times I check my watch. Its face stares up at me. I should have told you when I had the chance. At last, the train. Too late.

"I know why you're calling," he says.
"The house burned down last night."
Silence.
"A few things survived."
"Do you miss me? I miss you."
"Are you hearing this? They're demolishing tomorrow."
"You should come over."
"I'm staying with my sister."
It all came down to destruction. I should've known.