The Tyrtle



As part of my 2014 goal to write more this year, here’s an attempt at a Flash Friday contest entry.

Jess closed her eyes, remembering that summer night. Flashing colorful lights. Cheers. Shouts. Smells of corn dogs, funnel cakes, fresh vomit. My God. Could it be ten years? Nothing remained of the fairgrounds besides the rusted-out roller coaster tracks, a black silhouette against the deepening purple sky.


“C’mon! I want to ride!” Tommy admired the tiger-striped coaster cars as he did with Harleys, Corvettes, and all things fast.

Jess tickled underneath the baby turtle’s pale chin. “I’ll call you Flugmithar.”

Tommy sneered. “Just remember who won you that dumb turtle.”


Jess recalled the aftermath: Tommy, saying he was leaving their slow little town; her crying, begging him to stay. Sympathetic little Flugmithar watching from his terrarium. Her brief time with Tommy had been a bone-shaking roller coaster ride. When she thought of him, she preferred the brightly burning memory of their magical summer night at the fair.

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