Flash Fic Challenge: Flames of Young Love

 Flames of Young Love

 

The old, abandoned, olympic stadium burned down on a bright, sunny, summer day, after a week of rain. Nobody was there to see it catch fire. Everyone was talking about it.

And Nobody knew how it was done.

It was a nine-day mystery among the townsfolk, talked over, wondered over, and discussed to death before the news broke that the rich young daughter of the mayor had run away with a vagabond girl.

But the two girls, when they heard the tale, only looked at each other and smiled, for they had placed a crystal ball in the middle of the stadium a week (a rainy week) before as a distraction to help them escape. And crystal balls, like magnifying glasses, are excellent at focusing sunlight so hard that it becomes flame.

Have you seen the future? We believe it ends in fire....!

 

Flash Fic Challenge: Having a Ball

 Having a Ball

If height was a competition, the Empire State Building was doing quite well. Ella knew every cranny of every floor, with the fine detail of someone who has to clean those floors every day. She knew booking times and events too, since she was kept informed of when and where she could do it, and there was a costume ball happening on one of the observatory floors.

When her father was alive, he'd told her that she could have a party up there some day, birthday or otherwise. These days, Ella just thought it would be a nice dream, the sort you hold onto as you wake, but not anything that would ever come true.

But. There was to be a ball. During her work hours. In her place of work, so her stepmother couldn't keep her out. And she had always enjoyed dancing. If she could find something to wear, she could go for a few hours, slip away at midnight, and still (if she worked fast) get everything done before the office workers and the rest of the day shift arrived.

Her godmother Bobbi came up trumps with a dress - a blue and silver thing that Ella could slip on and off in under five minutes. She hid it in her workbag and practised looking miserable when her stepsisters bragged about going to the ball and dancing with everyone.

*

Nobody noticed when an uninvited guest slipped into the ball through a side door, next to the buffet holding plates of canapes and tiny bowls of jelly.

Some people noticed when one of the richest and most influential young men spent all his time dancing with a young woman in blue and silver.

Everyone noticed when the woman suddenly stopped mid-dance as the clock chimed and fled right through the ball and into the lifts.

But by the time the security time had raced down the stairs to intercept her, all they found was a single silver shoe abandoned in the middle of the lift, and a janitor in grubby overalls mopping the floor.

 

Flash Fic Challenge: Come Play With Me

 Come Play With Me

The hall stands cold and empty now.

The tables all lie bare.

Yet still across the darkness colours flare -

Ghosts of games long gone.

Bright baize faded down to grey.

Glass shards upon the floor.

Yet still, I tell you, there is more -

The cues and clues remain.

The knives that shaped these broken cues

Have crumbled to rust-red grime.

Mould creeps up walls like frosty rime

But the bones of the hall still stand.

For it is with blood and with bone

That all the ghosts now play.

Balls made from blood across the table spray,

Sent flying by cues carved from bone.

(We make our own,

We break our own,

We bind and bleed

And take our own)

The hall stands cold and darkened now.

The tables all lie bare...

Won't you play a game with me?

You, who entered on a dare?

Flash Fic Challenge: Dancing With Pride

 Dancing with Pride

 

The Company store, on the edge of the Company's shuttlefield, was restocked at the Company's convenience, which meant rarely to never. The only bright things in the windows were the regular posters for the management elections. Immaculately dressed people staring superciliously at the passing colonists as if to remind them that they too belonged to the Company.

Ky huffed every time xie passed the store on the way to work and muttered at the posters, "Not my circus, not my monkeys." Since xer home was on one side of the shuttlefield and xer workplace was on the other, that meant two glares and mutters a day. Still, it also meant that xie was usually one of the first people to see when the store had been restocked, which would have been more useful if the store ever stocked anything she both wanted and could afford.

Since the store was so rarely stocked, xie and the other colonists dumped on this planet to work for the Company had learned to barter and trade with each other for anything they actually needed.

But today wasn't for the Company. Today was for the people themselves. Everyone turned out for it, dancing in the street in their brightest clothes, the crystals braided into their hair flashing rainbows onto every surface, old songs and chants on their lips.

Not gay as in happy! Queer as in Fuck You!!

Flash Fic Challenge: Behind Closed Doors

 Behind Closed Doors

The saloon building might be called The Palace, and it might house a handful of old queens, but it was about as far from royalty as a cow's backside.

This early in the morning, the saloon itself was empty, the doors closed (but not locked) and Anna took the chance to sweep the dirt back out into the dusty street, wipe down the tables and collect the scattering of abandoned mugs and glasses. When she had a trayful she took them back through the serving door to the kitchen and handed them over to the scullion for washing.

The kitchen was loud and busy, a sharp contrast to the bar. A cluster of dancers were breakfasting on coffee and biscuits around a table and exchanging gossip about last night's customers. The stoves were blazing, more biscuits coming out of the ovens and bread for the noon meal going in. Beans set to soak yesterday were being rinsed off and set to simmer, and new crocks of beans set to soak for tomorrow. A meat cleaver thwacked steadily, cutting thin slices off a side of bacon, ready for frying.

Anna set down her tray, and wove her way through the chaos to the back door with practiced ease, sidestepping the old folding chair that the one-legged head cook directed the kitchen from and ducking out into the yard just as the delivery cart arrived.

The cart driver was copper-haired Josie, broad as a barn door, twice as sturdy, and holder of Anna's heart. They never had time on working mornings like these for more than a smile and a quick greeting, but Anna liked to watch Josie's muscles flex as she swung the various sacks, bags, and barrels of food down from the cart. She also liked to think Josie got her own good view when it was Anna's turn to haul the goods inside.

Josie set the last bag of onions at Anna's feet and hopped back up into the cart. “Tonight,” she promised, and flicked the reins.

“Tonight,” Anna echoed in reply and farewell, and stooped back to her work.

Flash Fic Challenge: A Pack of Lies

 A Pack of Lies

 

The pack of greyhounds and lurchers milled around Danny's van, all legs and bright eyes, with their eager heads at hip height. He patted backs and scratched ears, and checked them over, before setting up a basket of toys and bowls of water. Once down, he turned to survey the dog-racing-track surroundings.

Other dogs were visible through the crowd of owners, punters, and bookies. The track itself looked in good condition, neither too hard or too muddy, and the people looked as if they all had money to spend. It was going to be a good day.

When the races began, Danny was ready. He placed a few bets with the bookies, like any other owner or trainer, he prepared the dogs that were in each race and led them to their starting gate, he tossed loose items back into the basket of toys.

When the favourite - a steel-grey greyhound appropriately named Old Leg Irons - lost, Danny's dog came third and he picked up placement winnings on top of his usual earnings.

Of course, he never knew exactly how much he had earned until he got home and could empty the stolen wallets now hidden in the basket of dog toys.

Fat wallets, commonly tucked into hip pockets, at exactly the right height for one of his smart dogs to pickpocket, and drop their new 'toy' into the basket.

Danny grinned at his pack, all long legs, lolling tongues, and innocent eyes. “Good dogs,” he murmured, stacking the notes neatly. “Every one of you.”

Flash Fic Challenge: Moonrise

 Moonrise

“Half an hour to moonrise,” Danny yelled over the music blasting from the speakers. “Time to park up!”

 

Tom craned his neck and checked all the mirrors. There was nothing but dusty road and dustier outback for miles around, so he simply pulled over and parked the truck on the side of the road. Slim Dusty's Dieseline Dreams cut off with the engine, leaving only silence.

 

Danny and Tom both hopped out. Danny shucked off his shirt and tossed it back into the truck cabin along with his shoes. Tom was quick to follow suit, and then, in only loose shorts, they locked the truck up and moved a few paces clear, faces turned to the eastern sky.

 

The moon rose, and everything changed.

 

When the dust settled again, two wolves stood where the men had been, having squirmed out of the shorts in the change.

 

Danny play-bowed.

 

Tom pounced, and the two werewolves went rolling, running, and playing into the night, tongues lolling out in silent laughter.