Vignettes From a Thread

I wrote these very short stories for a flashfic thread on the Author's Hangout. The goal was to write a story about a designated topic in 100 words or less, and the topic changed every tenth story. Quite a few authors participated and I thought I'd share this glimpse of authors playing and learning with you. I hope you enjoy them.

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Art

It was cliché. He saw her in the gallery and drifted behind her until she was alone. She was timeless. He beguiled her with humorous stories and witty comments about the art before them. The museum disappeared. The kids are gone now. They still collect art, and their passion grows.

*

Mixing the paint; getting the ideal tint. Waiting until the light hit her golden hair just so and made it shimmer as she stood with her back to me, her head turned to the side. The earring was perfect. I want her desperately, but must settle for the canvas.

Sports

The searing heat, moist wind from the sea, the soft sand, the crowd. Taught bodies and graceful moves. They'd come back from four down to win the tournament, again. To the crowd their hug was a celebration of victory. To each other it was something else entirely.

*

Wild red hair. She was an impetuous, impulsive free spirit, a high strung thoroughbred. Buttoned down and bottled up, he was big on planning ahead. They stared at each other across the table, her hands resting on the red and white checkered table cloth. A candle flickered in a dark green bottle with wicker around the base. She was exhausted from the constant jousting. The chips were down, the hand dealt. She closed her eyes and folded.

Music

My fingers were blistered. I was drenched in sweat and I was happy. The last notes faded, washing across the arena and I looked across the sea of bodies, blue lights waving back and forth in a hypnotic, surreal sway. I looked offstage to my left. She was smiling. She blew me a kiss and at that, I hammered into the encore with that familiar fat sound. The band kicked in and we soared.

Water

She stared at the painting. He'd done her in oil, a classic pose. Those were good times, when they biked and enjoyed lazy afternoons at the ballpark watching their mediocre double A team. They'd met at a jazz concert and shared a heat that refused to fade. Outside, storm clouds gathered. She stared at the painting and a single tear escaped. He was coming home after seven months over there, but not with the warmth of life.

Wine

I strolled through the wine side. Soft classical music drifted from overhead speakers. Walking past the sample bar I overheard words like "legs," "oaky" and "cat pee."

I pushed through the door to the crowded beer side where the bartender was pouring small glasses and heard him say, "And this one is called Dog Sled!" People began barking and shouting, "Who let the dogs out..."

I was home. Through the window, on the wine side, I saw a woman so stunning she took my breath away. I drained my glass, waved for a refill and wondered if a mixed marriage could work.

History

"Man those sheets! Ready about!" The Commander stood helmside, braced against the heaving seas. The sails were full and firm, whitecaps blew, the spray glowed rainbows in the sunlight.

"Now! Now! Now!" he screamed, staring at the ship across his starboard bow.

The ship turned. Sails flapped, dumping wind, then snapped full and the ship surged forward.

Men scurried to make last second preparations. He shouted above the wind, "Steady on! Steady on! On...your...mark!"

The Commander white knuckled the stanchion as the ships met broadside, the sound deafening as cannons roared and wood and bone splintered.

The year was 1812.

Saturday Night

It was just before midnight on Saturday and the road glistened. Streetlights illuminated the night in that almost surreal way they do following a humid summer rain. I drove around a bend, stopped and got out. Men stood over a body lying on the street about 30 yards further. I looked at the young man in the car and saw he'd been thrown into the passenger seat when he hit the tree. A woman wailed and dropped to her knees when paramedics brought out a white sheet.

"Hey, get rid of my liquor bottle," he said.

"Not gonna happen," I replied.

Cars

The car was due so he drove into the inspection bay. The fumes in the multi-lane enclosure were strong as the inspector waved a wand over the exhaust pipe and got no reading. The car owner smiled and couldn't believe the slack faced, dull-eyed tech didn't hear the exhaust burbling loudly from the hole farther up the pipe. A beep of the horn, a tap on the brakes and the car passed. The owner laughed out loud when the muffler fell off five miles down the highway.

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Thank you for taking the time for reading my flashfic stories. I hope you enjoyed them. Please let me know what you think with a vote and a comment.