January 16: Flash Fiction Challenge « Carrot Ranch – Protest

This week’s 99 Word Flash Fiction Prompt is ‘Protest’, at Charli Mills’ CarrotRanch.

 

 

January 16, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a protest story. It can be about a protest, or you can investigate the word and expand the idea. Who is protesting, where, and why? Go where the prompt leads!

 

In Protest of the Planet

 

What remains of the trees, struggle to stand tall, casting thin shadows across the water with reflection in their retaliation. Birds make swift exit when the weather turns ominous. Where do humans flee when there’s no longer a safe place to exist?

What remains is nature’s leftovers from man’s thoughtless lashings. Angels band together, looking down from above in God’s sanctuary as God’s planet drowns and burns in salty tears. When will the natives wake? Action is needed now. Let us stand up in defense of the planet against the wrongs of man and start to repair with change.

 

Source: January 16: Flash Fiction Challenge « Carrot Ranch Literary Community

 

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Rodeo #2: Memoir Flash Nonfiction Contest at the Carrot Ranch Literary Community

Carrot Ranch contest

 

 

Last month Charlie Mills of the CarrotRanch ran a month long Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest. Each weekly contest consisted of a subject to compose our 99 word entries for. Today I’m sharing my entry for the Memoir Flash Fiction Challenge. The subject for the story was “She Did It”. Although I didn’t win, it was a fun challenge and I wish a hardy congratulations to those who won.

 

 

The Narcissist

 

Mother broke hearts with her beauty. Her heart was impenetrable. Her razor-sharp tongue peppered with acidic words, seared holes through my self-esteem, perplexing my childhood and self-worth. I envied her beauty, despite not desiring to emulate.

Cutting words, her specialty. Brainwashed by lies, I thought I needed help. It was my mother requiring analysis. Desperation loomed, anticipating escaping her twisted manipulation and projecting unto others of what festered in her soul.

I escaped. The wounds didn’t. Words embedded, stifled with guilt, my spirit shattered from her black, troubled soul.

Fifty years later, the shackles released. “I banish you Mother.”

 

If you’d like to see some of the entries and the list of winners please visit the CarrotRanch.