Flash Fiction Challenge: Prompt was “IF”
As usual, the Flash Fiction Challenge was held last night.
The rules…
You have 90 mins to write something related to the prompt given. You have ONLY 90 mins to write and edit your new piece.
Tonight’s prompt was IF. Here is what I came up with (YA Genre) :
There was a dampness to my skin that could only be recognized by those living in the South. It was humidity, summer sweat and the last remnants of morning dew. The grass shimmered with the stuff, making the half dead blades almost seem inviting. Well, until you tried to sit in it. Then you realized the sharp spikes had been neglected too long because of the drought and the neighbor’s dog had recently fertilized it.I sat on the edge of the driveway, staring down at the pathetic lawn and wishing I had gone to the beach with my parents. If I had, my skin would have a glowing, fresh tan and the scent of salty breezes would be filling my nose instead of dog turd fumes.
But sometimes things just don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. Then again, maybe things did work out for the best. Mom and dad could be alone to work things out. Plus, I needed a break from all the yelling.
The sound of a mailbox snapping closed made me look up. There she was across the street, Mrs. Cindy Parker, a.k.a. Mrs. I-Wear-Hoochie-Clothes. She played with the mail in her hand, flipping it over and over while she watched me from the corner of her eye. I could tell she was deciding if she was going to talk with me. She might have approached, but I think she reconsidered when I picked up one of my sandals from beside me and began to bash in the dried dirt, over and over to the rhythm of her mail tossing. I had to fight back a smirk as I watched her prance up her driveway with more speed than necessary.
I wouldn’t really hurt her. Not physically.
Yeah, my dad had needed a break from Mrs. Hoochie, too. I thought he’d damn near kill me when I blurted out to my mother how I caught them flirting in our backyard. I said flirting to her, but his ass got off easy. Mrs. Hoochie had been sitting in his lap, her fingers in his hair and his hand on her thigh. If I hadn’t been so quick to rush them, knocking her into the bushes before dousing her with the watering hose, I might have caught them kissing, too.
Well, it could all be better soon, anyway. Mom and dad might fall in love again on some romantic walk along the beach and maybe Mrs. Hoochie’s husband would enjoy the letter I left in their mailbox.
My hands ran through the sharp blades as I waited to hear the yelling from across the street. It might sound as good as ocean waves.








