Nov. 28 Flash Fiction The Mask

 

Her Marie Antoinette wig felt heavy. How did they stand those wigs for hours in King Louis’ court? Her red painted mask, decorated with faux black diamonds, covered half her face. Her red dress would have done her proud at any royal ball in Versailles.

 

This was not the 18th century but now, a fund raiser for the local hospital. 

She was neither a contributor or a guest but had snuck in through the hotel kitchen to where they were feasting and dancing.

 

She’d planned every step. She succeeded in getting Dr. Adler out on the balcony. As he moved to kiss her, she’d stuck the knife into his stomach and twisted it.

 

He fell.

 

She entered through the double doors into the main ballroom to head for the exit. 

 

The blood matched her dress. No one would ever remember that she had been there and even if they did, they had no idea who she was.

 

But simultaneously, her mask slipped to the ground as Dr. Adler staggered into the room to the shocked silence of the attendees.

 

******

 

I am part of a group that writes one piece of flash fiction a day to a prompt. Today's prompt was a broken mask. Flash fiction is a complete story under 750 words.

Nov. 28 The Introduction

We are coming near the end of writing a Flash Fiction piece a day. Today's prompt was introducing a lover to the family.

“You’ve got it down?” Pam asked Bob.

“Yes. We’ve been dating three months, but we’ve known each other since uni. I don’t say I’m a friend with benefits, or I used to have benefits. I must say I’m in banking.”

Pam pulled up to her parents’ house, a real colonial circa 1780, modernized inside to the nth degree with the best of everything. There were several cars in the driveway, which is why she’d parked on the street. She recognized the cars as belonging to her aunts and uncles. “You’ve got it.”

“And how long will your parents stay off your back thinking you’re dating me?”

“Enough to give me a rest about having to have a man in my life that is husband material.”

“Will you ever tell them about Danny?”

“That I’m living with a starving musician? Maybe someday I’ll take a flight to the moon and send an e-mail.”

“You could try telling them the truth, and that at thirty you can make your own decisions. You have a good job, you own your own condo, etc.,etc.”

Pam thought about it as they walked up to the front door. The house was decorated with one white electric candle in each window. “Nah!” She opened the door and called, “We’re here.”

Horoscope

The November 25th prompt was to read your horoscope than use that as the basis for the day's Flash Fiction

 

 

“Be honest with your partner; a sincere conversation will help you balance your relationship,” my horoscope said. And what if I don’t want to be honest?

 

Some days I want it to work it out with Joe. Other days I want him out of my life.

 

He’s a sweetheart in so many ways, the type of man that brings me flowers, cleans up after dinner.

 

So what’s the problem?

 

He’s always in my face. I don’t have a moment alone. I’m lucky if I can read a paragraph without him interrupting me. He’s talking to me as I fall asleep and as I wake up. When I take a shower I have to lock the door so he won’t come in and sit on the toilet and talk to me.

 

I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he doesn’t pay any attention.

 

Tonight I found myself sitting in the car after work rather than go into my flat and be talked at.

 

I made a decision. 

 

I’ve called a locksmith.

Nov. 24 In times like these

 Nov. 24th Flash Fiction daily assignment was to start with the words "In times like these."

“In times like these,” that’s what my mother said her mother said. Mom was in a nursing home, but she had all her faculties and then some. It was her body that was failing her, and she was pissed off about it, but she hadn’t lost her sense of humor.

We were talking on Facebook, because visitations were verboten.

Lately, I was recording our conversations. I was trying to capture as much of our family history as I could. On my father’s side Aunt Lil, Aunt Evelyn and Aunt Agnes had all passed and I never had taped their memories of their move from Canada to Lowell and their work in the mills.

I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with my mom, who also held my grandmother’s history in her mind and heart.

“She went through the 1918 Spanish Flu, World War I, the depression and World War II. She would always say “In times like those we… and then she’d go on to discuss her uncle’s death from the flu, how Uncle Benny came home gassed from WWI, how her husband was 4F and how they made margarine out of something white with a red dot in the middle.”

My mom was a great storyteller and went into detail about a dress my grandmother had made for her on old Singer pedal sewing machine.

The nurse came in to take her to dinner.

“It’s times like these,” she said to me before shutting down her laptop, “that we need to make every minute we share count.”