Friday, September 13, 2013

3 Minutes. Go!

It's flash Friday again. All writers and non writers are welcome to put their three minute free write in the comments section on this post. Tell a friend. The more the merrier. 

Reckon I'll go fishing today. It's one of those days. The sky is fragrant blue, and not even Huck Finn could resist that. I want to stand beside the lake. Feel the wind like a cool cloth, whipped across the water, draped across my neck. I want to see ospreys and eagles dance on the capricious whims of the wind.

I want to try a few lures and see if the fish are feeling picky. I'd like to catch a fish, but I don't care if I do. I know I will catch a few minutes to stand, sun warm on my shoulders, wind singing in my ears, blocking out the racket that is usually inside my broken ears. I will nod like my grandfathers nodded. At passersby. An accepted greeting on a quiet shoreline. I am here. You are here. And it's great. Ain't it?


  1. It followed me. Soon as I found the trailhead and set one hiking booted foot on the damp mulch and root-strewn path, I felt its presence. An animal? I don't know, I never saw it. Whatever followed me was crafty smart, blending into the fractured barcode woods, melding with banners of mist, chuckling alongside creek beds. No doubt it enjoyed my pain as I struggled up the mountain, raw with lung burst, heart hammer and quadricep quiver. I could feel its glee, its grin of triumph, knowing each step took me closer to its awful stretched maw. And when I became lost, its eagerness was rapid warm gusts on the back of my neck.

    But I found my way, and next time I'll be stronger and will know more. It sits here now, in the darkest corner of my basement, pouting, sulking, knowing it cannot lose but nevertheless will have to wait.


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