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  1. Lilly James Haro

    Lilly James Haro The Grey Warden

    Apr 26, 2014
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    Kirkwall, Free Marches, Thedas

    Past Contest Flash Fiction Contest #34 - "A Funny Thing Happened On My Way To..."

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Flash Fiction Contest Archives' started by Lilly James Haro, May 4, 2016.

    The theme for Flash Fiction Contest #34 is "A funny thing happened on my way to...” which was chosen by previous winner @doggiedude. Remember the word limit is 150-450 words and all entries must be posted anonymously in this thread by 6:00 pm EST May 22nd. Make sure to include the number of words and any warnings. You can also make your entry private simply by clicking more functions before posting, and click the box that makes the post viewable by "Members Only."

    Please do not use the same name as another entry as it makes it quite confusing for voting, thank you :)
  2. Sniam

    Sniam Member

    May 4, 2016
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    Last Sunday (167)

    A funny thing happened on my way to see you.

    I went to the florist, as always on Sundays, and asked for your bouquet. The man looked me in the eye, he knows those flowers are for you. After all, I’ve been a regular customer for the past few months, haven’t I?

    Strangely enough, he didn't pick the usual composition. He chose different flowers I don't really know the name of, but you'd have seen just how magnificent the whole thing was. He even took a deep blue ribbon to tie it together. When I asked him about the price, I’m pretty sure he lied to me. He said that it wasn’t proper for a gentleman to always gift the same things to a lady. Got to put some variety from here to there, some unexpected.

    He was right, these suit you much more than those dull chrysanthemums. I will have to make a stop to thank him on my way back from the graveyard.
  3. BruceA

    BruceA Senior Member Supporter

    Feb 7, 2016
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    Late, again (423 words)

    Fiona’s twenty-year-old Ford, spluttered weakly, managed a pathetic cough, then fell silent. Pleading, shouting and thumping all failed to motivate the car. Fiona had no choice but to grab her bag from the passenger seat and begin the long walk to the office.

    Yesterday, she had been given her final written warning: one minute late, one more time and you’ll be looking for another job.

    Walking swiftly, Fiona had the feeling she was being followed, but when she looked around she saw no one. She was tired and anxious. She couldn't afford to be sacked: she needed all three jobs to pay her bills. Unfortunately it didn't leave her much time for luxuries. Like sleep.

    Steve, the friendly homeless man, was in his usual spot, outside the convenience store. Normally, Fiona would stop and talk to him, buy him a sandwich or give him some change. As she approached, Steve walked down the alley next to the shop. Fiona felt relief, tinged with guilt: although she really liked Steve - he seemed like a normal guy that bad things had happened to - today she could afford neither the time to talk to him, nor the coins from her purse.

    Fiona pressed on. As she passed the alley could see something shimmer, out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and took a step backwards to get a look down the narrow passageway. There was a pulsating, swirling maelstrom of something in front of Steve. As she watched, he stepped into it. There was a blinding flash of light. When Fiona could see again, blinking through spots of swirling light, there was no Steve, but the something remained

    “It’s a wormhole.”

    Fiona jumped at the voice, and turned. Steve stood behind her, smiling.

    “It takes you to another alleyway, a couple of blocks away,” he said. “But back in time: two weeks ago, actually. I’ve been waiting over there for the other me to go in: didn't want to bump into myself.”

    While Steve continued to explain, Fiona’s brain buzzed. Two Fiona’s for two weeks would certainly solve a few problems! Fiona could get to work early, then hide when other Fiona arrived late. She could then get some much needed sleep before volunteering for overtime.

    Her mind made up, she gave a rather startled Steve a quick hug, before running towards the wormhole.

    “I’ll see you in two weeks, Steve. Or,” she called over her shoulder, thinking of the person who seemed to follow her “In a minute, whichever is soonest for you!”
    Last edited: May 7, 2016
  4. rem

    rem Member

    Jul 9, 2013
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    Alaskan Party (204 words)

    A funny thing happened on my way to Juneau. I was traveling by bus, enjoying the scenery, but when we stopped at a diner along the way, I spent too long in the men's room and when I'd return the bus was gone. So, it was Friday night, and I didn't know where to stay. I knew only one thing about this town: The local hooch was so foul that after a single sip, you'd feel you've got a beehive in your belly.

    I was walking back and forth outside the diner, kicking up dust, when a pickup truck rolled into the parking lot. The guy behind the wheel was maybe sensing my frustration, because he asked «Do you wanna party?».

    You only live once, I thought. What the heck. «Yes!»
    Then he stroked his mustache, sizing me up, and said «There's gonna be drinkin'»
    «Yes!», I said.
    «There's gonna be fightin'», he said.
    Whoa. I hesitated. But I'd been to frat parties before, I could handle myself. I think I even remembered some judo. «Yes, I'll come!», I said.
    «There's gonna be sex», he said.
    «Yes, I'll come!», I said.
    And then he said «And it's only gonna be the two of us».
  5. PopSticky

    PopSticky New Member

    Feb 6, 2013
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    Electric Nights. [276]

    Those eyes! Those vivid blues glaring down on me with accusatory rage.

    It’s funny, but for just a moment I thought they were your eyes. Framed by your perfect face and flowing hair. Watching me walk on my way to see you again.

    But of course they couldn’t be your eyes. Your eyes could never have contained such malice and outrage. Your eyes looked upon this world with only amusement and eagerness. Now those beautiful eyes will never look upon anything again. Not since you fell from me all those nights ago.

    That summer night, high up in the mountains at our favorite retreat, I took a knee and asked you to be my wife. You laughed like you always did; shining like a beacon in the dead of night, and with a smile said “of course I will.”

    But that was then and now I walk. Heading towards my finality that only I deserve.

    Reaching the end of the long passageway I am reminded of our final walk. I shut my eyes and remember that last time when we strolled along the mountain trail, newly engaged and holding hands. You turned to me with a smile and a kiss, and that is when I pushed. You fell without a scream, eyes wide and baffled, and disappeared into the night.

    Opening my eyes I turned and looked into the crowd, searching for those eyes that reminded me of you. The guards roughly lowering me into the chair in what would be my final act. They strapped my wrists and ankles in place and placed that cold wet sponge on the top of my head.
  6. doggiedude

    doggiedude Contributing Member

    Feb 15, 2016
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    Florida, USA, Earth, The Sol System
    Fauxmeat™ [450 words]

    Tom heard the car door slam. It was like Pavlov ringing a bell. His mouth started to salivate as he dashed to the front door. “Pizza!” He tripped over the excited dog. Tom restrained Mr. Licks to prevent escape. Wendy came in and Tom’s heart sank. She wasn’t carrying pizza. Instead, she held a large bag with the label Faux-Mex.

    “That’s not pizza.”

    “Yes. That’s why I married you. Your astute observational abilities.”

    “Why isn’t it pizza?” Mr. Licks was jumping around as they headed into the kitchen.

    “Well… A funny thing happened on my way to Domislows.”

    “Funny haha or funny strange?”

    “Strange.” She put the bag on the table. “Grab some plates.”

    “Okay, but this better not be a cruel joke.”

    Wendy began unloading several containers from the bag. “There were protesters outside the parking lot, blocking the entrance.”

    “Who the fuck protests pizza?”


    “Christ, what the hell is the matter with those people. Can’t anyone eat pork products in peace anymore?”

    “Ummm. Yeah, about that.” Her hand hovered over one of the containers.

    “God. What did you get?”

    “Well, you see… One of the women out front came up to the car. She recommended this place across the street.”

    “Don’t tell me it’s vegan Mexican.”

    Wendy let out an exasperated, “Yes. Sort of.” She opened one of the containers. “Ta Da! It’s faux-meat fajitas.”

    Tom looked over and saw strips of grilled meat laid over vegetables. He peered a little closer. “What kind of meat is it?”

    “It’s Fauxbeef ™ and Fauxchicken.™ I tried the chicken. It’s not bad.”

    Tom mumbled, “Not bad. Great advertising line.” He poked at the dish with a fork. It looked beefy… Sort of. “Is it tofu?”

    “Eww. No. I wouldn’t feed that shit to you. It’s animal meat grown in a vat.”

    “Meat from a vat. I can see the commercials now.” This wasn’t exactly news to Tom. He followed some of the debates in Congress over the FDA allowing this food to be released to the public.

    “Go on chicken… Try it.”

    “Shouldn’t that be… Go on Fauxchicken™?” He stabbed a piece and brought it to his nose, sniffing disapprovingly at it. He tasted a small bite with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old eating broccoli. Then he gobbled down the rest of the piece.

    “This stuff is great! Are those the tortillas?” He pointed at another container.

    “Ummm… Yeah, about that.”

    He glared at her. “What the hell did they do to the tortillas?” He unwrapped the package. Inside was a stack of tortillas. They were neon green.

    “Ta Da!” She said like a game show model, waving her hand over them. “Made from Limeoats.™”

    Last edited: May 29, 2016
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