Thursday, July 26, 2012
AND SOMETIMES FICTION IS STRANGER THAN TRUTH
Today, take an event in history (world history or your personal history) and write it as a piece of flash fiction. Change the names, places and whatever you need to to "protect the innocent" and give your story a surreal feel. And as always, remember: Everyone has a little story...
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THE LAST VOLLEY
ReplyDeleteThere's something about a bad penny always turning up. It makes a lot of cents. But it wreaks havoc on your emotions.
Terrianne came by one more time. To share dinner; to talk. Or as Phillip always called it "The Last Supper with monologue". Needless to say he did very little talking.
It's a funny thing too, Phillip had been content in his solitude. He read a lot and wrote some. He had his music and that was all the emotions he needed to handle at this point in his life. His last relationship ended without warning. He was an observant guy; he should have seen it coming. He got caught flat-footed.
So when Terrianne (who had fancied Phillip's brother for a bit) came by to see him, it stirred up quite the hornet's nest between the brothers. It also fanned the smoldering ember that was his heart.
But, there was something about someone as creative as Phillip was. They possessed an intensity that few other people understood. And Phillips passion ran hot. He put everything he had into whatever it was he would undertake. He wrote with a fiery flair, and he loved with even more heat.
Frankly, it scared her. She was not used to being held up to that standard. Pedestals gave her nosebleeds. So did most of the other guys with which she usually got involved. Phillip was different. He was clean cut, and respectful. He was considerate and helpful. And Terrianne couldn't handle it. All Phillip could figure was that she liked bad boys.
She admitted as much during dinner. Terrianne said he was too good for her. That she couldn't love him like he wish she would. She questioned if she ever really loved him at all.
She had come in and out of his life, she just couldn't live with him. Or without him. But she needed to.
Nothing was left to say. Terrianne was heading to Vegas where her father had landed (and her last boyfriend too, he later had found). And Phillip could only watch as her tail light diminished in size; distant laser points trained on his heart. The left turn she made out of his life stung like a ten-inch blade through him. And as suddenly as Terrianne had entered his realm, she had left him for dead.