Rachael Harrie is rounding up her Writecampaign with the the third challenge, and of course, like the first and the second, my third entry is again flash fiction. Here’s what she has asked us to do:
Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:
- that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
- that the MC (main character) is bored
- that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
- that something surprising happens.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: “synbatec,” “wastopaneer,” and “tacise.” (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).
And without further ado, here’s my entry : (No 127 on the list!)
On the dawn of his fortieth birthday, Brad surveyed the beach, to make sure he was alone. The breeze further ruffled his long hair, tangling it with his scratchy beard. This body with its many appendages and extensions bothered him.
Today he would visit the land of Wastopaneer one last time, but the perils of that land didn’t scare him as much as the ghouls of this Earth, especially the ones called Women, who’d reduced his name Bradaeger Lutalac to the harsh, monosyllabic Brad, a name his tongue could barely taste. They called his world, the divine Synbatec, Saturn. Brad hated the sound of that word.
An Earth year, ten days of his life, he had to spend each yearly trip to Wastopaneer, frolicking with Women, to test his detachment. He had to admit it was fun, this listening, tasting, touching, feeling, seeing, smelling, instead of just being, like he and his kind. But only for a while. He couldn’t wait to get out of the clutches of Earth Women, who hungered for his body, no matter how he hid it.
His being longed for the rancid smell of the Tacise, and just when he had given up, he got a whiff of it. The wormhole had opened, and they would be here soon, to take him to Wastopaneer for his final rite of passage. Brad checked behind him: no pesky Women trailing him into another world this time.
“Greetings, Lutalac, you may take off your clothes now,” smiled a Woman’s voice, and Brad whipped around to see the spidery forms of the Wise Tacise before him, accompanied by the gloriously unclothed Woman stowaway who had tried to tag him to Wastopaneer last year.
“Welcome, Lutalac,” chorused the Wise. “She will be your last test of detachment upon Wastopaneer
If you liked the 200-word piece and would like to read more of my stories, check out A to Z Stories of Life and Death, available on Kindle , Nook and Smashwords.