ATA Flash Fiction 2019-01
Well, we're off to an interesting start this year. We had two entries that were delightful!
Writers were challenged with creating a 150-300 word story inspired by the above picture (courtesy of pixabay.com)
Mark A Morris - Your story was tense and intense. I like the way you set the story up with tension from the title and the idea that the protagonist was dealing with an emotional time-bomb, one he is trying to avoid, but it might already be too late.
Bill Engleson - Your story was a delightful fish story, but you also included some excellent subterfuge. There were a few phrases that left me wondering if, perhaps, they were the last two men on Earth -
Both stories were excellent, as I've come to expect from both of you and I am looking forward to reading many more stories from you over the coming year. Both here and in other competitions! I wish you both well, but alas, there can only be one winner.
This week's winner is:
Mark A Morris for :
Tick, tick, tick...
Coils of electricity hung above the harbour across the bay, sparking ideas in his head. Clyde knew he had to make a change, to step quickly away. There was nothing for him if he remained here – just an endless repetition of this day they’d just had, each one running through into the next and then looping back in on itself.
“I can’t,” he said. “It wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, not to me, not to either of us. We’d only resent one another.”
Jacqueline took a sip from her Chardonnay, taking it slowly. She gulped the wine back and replaced the glass on the tray. She wobbled to her feet, standing tall above him at the table, not caring who else would notice. She had already assumed the role of the innocent and he knew she would play her part with gusto, using her hands and pitching her voice so to make this as dramatic as she could. If she had her way none of the other diners would ever forget this night.
“Now, stop," he interrupted. "You know you can’t. Not here.” He rose too, seizing her shoulders, knowing there was no way he could prevent her escalating this, if that was her intention. He had to find a way to nullify this, this scene she was creating.
He kissed her.
The people at the next table began to applaud, and he rolled his eyes at them, still maintaining the pressure of his lips against hers.
With any luck they’d believe he’d proposed.
There might still be a way for him to bluff his way through this. To contain the explosion. To defuse the situation. To prevent the fall-out from affecting the restaurant.
And then he would run. Hoping her shoes would slow her down.