My last flash fiction story, Treatment, was a little bit darker and more serious than my previous winning entry. With my next entry, I’m going to try and inject a little bit of humour, similar to the Drawings in the Sand.
If you haven’t tried writing flash fiction, you really should. It’s a lot of fun and doesn’t take that much time. Sure, it could take a little while for you to get into your stride, but once you’re going they will fly out of you.
It’s a great creative outlet and a fun way to experiment with writing. With only two-hundred and fifty words it’s easier to spot the errors and fix them. There’s nowhere for them to hide.
I’m sure I’ve said it before, but if you do decide to enter one, let me know. Always happy to offer some support where I can. That’s another great thing about flash fiction. You can read them in a couple of minutes. There’s always time for them.
So without further ado…
The door crashed open as Bobby burst onto the front porch. He buttoned up his jeans and leapt down the steps. The soft ground squelched between his toes as he raced towards the river.
A woman with dishevelled hair wrapped in a sheet hurried onto the porch and called after him. “HEY! HE’S JUST A BOY.”
Bobby waved his hand dismissively. He didn’t have time for this, the Sheriff was closing in. He bent down and scooped up a crumpled green bill. A trail of bank notes led down to the river. He squeezed the bill in his fist, before throwing it away.
His jeans darkened as they absorbed the morning dew. He skidded to a halt when the trail ended. The river rumbled past, shimmering in the morning sun. Goosebumps swept across his bare chest as a cool wind whipped through the long grass.
“JIMMY.” He watched and waited.
A small mop of blond hair popped up beside the river. Jimmy waved, beckoning him to follow.
Bobby ran towards him, sinking into the marsh surrounding the river. He squinted as the sun bounced off ripples and eddies, blinding him.
“Jimmy!” He waded towards the boy, glancing at the empty burlap bag resting on the reeds. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Jimmy grinned and held up a green paper boat. “This paper folds good.”
Bobby eyed the boat, before turning his gaze to the river as a fleet of hundred dollar bills sailed away.