An entry for Flash! Friday vol. 2-27. This week’s prompt was “friendship”.
“I declare, ain’t you a pitiful sight!” Mrs. Sessom licked her thumb and scrubbed grime from the cheek of her barefoot visitor. “Does your mama know you’re wandering around town dressed in those filthy rags?!”
“Ain’t got no mama,” said the girl. “Father’s overworked. I’m selling berries door-to-door to help.”
Mrs. Sessom examined the crates of blackberries oozing dark purple juice onto her stoop.
“No one bought any, ma’am. Most of the townsfolk just yelled at me.”
“Oh, sweet child. Ignore the hateful ones. With the recession, and record drought… Tell you what: I’ll buy all two peck o’ blackberries!”
The girl beamed. “Honest?”
“Yep. And remember, you always got a friend in ol’ Mrs. Sessom.”
Relieved of her burden, the girl rushed home. “Father! Someone helped us out!”
Father smiled and embraced her. “So there still is one good soul.” With a wave of His hand, He canceled the rain of brimstone scheduled for the city.
An entry for Flash Friday vol 2-16.
“Three… two… one… Blast off!”
Gravel flew as Jimmy the Spaceman pedaled as fast as he could. This time, that bug-eyed monster Willie McGurk would not escape interplanetary justice.
“You’ll never catch me, Spaceman!” taunted his foe as they zoomed through the bridge tunnel.
The valiant spaceman leveled his atomic laser blaster squarely at McGurk’s craft. “Pew! Pew! Pew!”
Yet the battle-hardened McGurk the Merciless skillful dodged the laser bolts. “No hands!” he bragged.
Alas, pride was McGurk’s downfall. The shiny vehicle wobbled in its course, then spun out. McGurk tumbled, landing on a lush green planetoid. An indigenous plastic flamingo observed him in silence.
Jimmy the Spaceman aimed his blaster at the fallen opponent. “Your nefarious space pirate days are over, McGurk!”
Willie McGurk dusted himself off, noticing the grass stains on his t-shirt.
“I’m bored of this. Let’s ride over to the corner store and get a soda.”
An entry for Flash Friday vol 2-14
For the Elders, the 10th Earth Day is a nostalgic celebration. Not for you.
All of this is alien to you, who have never seen Earth. As artificial as the light from the sunlamps illuminating this cargo bay. As restraining as the ribbons tying up your golden locks of hair, which usually fly as freely in zero-g as the helium balloons you’re inflating.
The Captain talks of the importance of remembering tradition, now that Earth is gone forever. The Elders applaud.
You fidget in your ballet dress. “How can I teach dance in weightlessness?” your teacher has often complained.
Now your lanky friends struggle as the power-hungry gravity generators enforce up and down. Your frail legs struggle with the weight imposed on you. A music box melody plays the Elders back to better times. Back to Earth.
Your dance begins. But, my little girl, how can you dance with your feet on the ground?