Flash – Page 72 – Erin Penn's Second Base

Flash: Saint David

September 15, 2019February 18, 2019 Erin Penn

Appears multiple places on the Internet, no attribution given

One of the miracles of St. David, saint of Wales, retold in a bardic manner, meant to be performed

St. Dewi, pious and true saint of Wales, known in the English tongue as “David the Waterdrinker”, was man, monk, and missionary throughout Wales after making his right pilgrimage to Jerusalem where he was made Bishop.

During one of his missionary trips, he found himself at the Synod of Llanddewi Brefi. A large crowd gathered as he spoke, so large those in the back of the crowd asked him to speak louder. So he did, his powerful, God-blessed voice carrying and even more gathered until, again, those in the back of the crowd asked for him to speak louder. He reached within himself, drawing on his faith in the Christ, and his voice boomed. Even more gathered until, once more, those in the back of the crowd asked for him to speak louder. The Welsh Saint, feed only on water, bread and vegetable, who pulled his own plow instead of putting God’s creatures to work, looked to the heavens for help.

A dove, white and holy, flew down from the clouds and alight on the Saint’s shoulder. The ground his blessed feet stood upon started to rise and rise until a hill formed. Everyone now had a good view of the nephew of King Arthur who resumed his sermon, his voice carrying to everyone present. As more gathered, the hill would raise a bit more until finally the day and the sermon ended.

Upon the miracle hill a church was build.

As for Saint David, he continued to travel. He never again had difficulty with a crowd unable to see him or hear him speak. At home, he continued to eat only bread and vegetables, drawing his own water and pulling his own plow. Upon his deathbed he encouraged those around him to “Do the little things that you have heard and seen me do.”

Pope Callixtus II, during the 12^th century, declared St. David’s Cathedral to be a place of pilgrimage. With two such pilgrimages being equal to one to Rome, and three such pilgrimages being equal to one to Jerusalem.

(words 342; first published 9/15/2019)

Flash: Daylight Regrets

September 8, 2019February 8, 2019 Erin Penn

Daylight came too soon, pushing back the magic of night. Julian pulled the crumpled bedsheeets around him wondering … wondering if he could continue, wondering if he could stop.

Joseph had been his world from the moment they met at the recreation center. Joe, blond, sculptured, and popular was the pool attendant. Surrounded by the teenage crowd of beauty, where he reigned supreme.

Julian debated pretending to drown to get his attention … for weeks. Instead, for the first time of his life, he crushed his shyness and asked the guy out. He expected to be shot down. Joe could have any guy or girl in the pace. Instead he said yes. Yes to a dweeb, yes to a guy in a homophobe town, yes to him.

They swam daily during lunch. They ate breakfast and dinner together. From the first date, they saw each other every day. The high school Julian had been certain would turn against them in their senior year, supported them – their star quarterback, swimmer, pitcher and the new guy who stole his heart and won the county science fair and took the chess team to national finals.

They changed the town. Gave hope to other kids who came out to their parents. Joe still won prom king, and the crowd cheered when Joe and Julian took the dance floor beside the prom queen and her college boyfriend.

Five years of bliss. Joe supported him through college. Cleaned house, cooked meals, massaged aching shoulders. They started talking about adoption after Julian got his first full-time job.

They were suppose to have forever.

Julian rubbed the goosebumps on his arms as he watched the sun climb in the sky.

The problem is Joe thought so too. So much, so hard, he continued to visit Julian every night since he died. And Julian couldn’t say no. He never had been able to turn Joe away.

And he needed to.

Needed to.

Needed to send Joe to the light. Instead Joe left before the dawn every morning. And Julian relived Joe’s betrayal every day – Joe dying while Julian had to keep living. The moment Julian was told Joe would never …

He needed to stop this cycle before it destroyed him. He needed it to continue so he would always be loved. Never seeing Joe again would kill him. Keeping seeing Joe would break him.

He couldn’t keep living like this. He couldn’t stop living like this.

(words 408 – originally appearing at Breathless Press 10/10/2013 for the 5/6/12 Sunday Fun – See the picture that inspired the story! – As I do not know the copyright permissions, I have not copied it here; republished new blog format 9/8/2019)

Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 1

September 1, 2019February 18, 2019 Erin Penn

Tell Them I Am is Here Part One: I Am Prophecy

I am prophecy.

The words drifted into her head, Vixen’s first thought upon waking. She stretched and rolled over. A teenager, waking was the roughest part of her day. Dozens of thoughts danced in and out of her head. A melancholy breakfast with her mom, answers she studied for her Space Settlement History test, a battle in Trade Landing, new music from her favorite Taurusian band, the end of the Universe, befriending the next Emperor of Man. Some thoughts gray and misty, not likely to happen. Some nearly clear, like a memory from yesterday. A few confusing, emotions she had not been exposed to. Friendship with Osantos going in directions her body nearly understood, but felt uncomfortable. The kissing part … she tried to chase down the thought before the next group of words sliced through her mind, shattering her peace.

I am history.

Mankind, war and wonder, the first self-aware thought of an ape, the first killing in anger, looking down on the tiny cradle planet, the thousand ships leaping to the far reaches. Hate, pain, love, joy, reason, insanity, tears, laughter … each hit her, stabbed her. No misty thoughts, but real, fixed, unchangeable situations. Victory, horror … More than her young mind could handle. Pushing her further and further until something in her twisted. Snapped. Awoke.

I am now.

A final scream tore from Vixen as she threw her blankets back and sat up. She had been screaming for some time.

“No, …no,” her ruined voice pleaded as she jumped off the mattress and ran to the mirror.

The reflection showed black eyes, pupils expanding to swallow green irises then the surrounding white. Streaks of color, light, danced back and forth between her slightly slanted eyes as they became a deeper dark than night. Veins went from a mild green to deep blue as her body optimized oxygen usage creating a stark red and blue map vivid against her cream and peaches complexion. Vixen’s hyperventilation quickly dropped to a rate not found among homo sapiens.

“Maker, no.” Her melodic voice restored danced upon her ears with new tones, making her sob. Between tears she begged, “I don’t want to die.”

(words 363, first published 4/4/14; republished new blog format 9/1/19)

Writing Exercise: 50-Word Prompts 2019

August 27, 2019August 16, 2026 Erin Penn

WRITING EXERCISE

Remember last year working on a couple of 50-word prompts. (50-Word Prompts 2018) I’m just back from Pennsic and really don’t have the energy to come up with a new writing exercise, so here we go again!

Write two 50-word flashes. Aim for 50 words, give or take five extra words. Don’t read my attempts until after you do your own. Writing them directly in the comment section below will help you focus on the flash aspect – just getting words out.

How does this exercise help you as a writer: (1) just write things out quickly; (2) learn to work from prompts (important for the anthology world); (3) practice writing to a word count.

TEXT PROMPT FOR 50-WORD FLASH: Market

VISUAL PROMPT FOR 50-WORD FLASH

Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

My Attempts

TEXT PROMPT: Market

“How much for him?” I waved at the male sex bot behind the counter. I never considered buying one ever before, but today’s town mating fair had left me feeling unexpectedly lonely. Too old to join the youngsters on the breeding platform, and too poor to join the contract buyers. (first published 3/21/2022; 50 words)

VISUAL PROMPT

She stared, a brunette tress falling in front of her right eye. I didn’t have money to give her. The wind cut us both, slicing skin with Jack Frost knives. Me, I would be going home and a warm bath would ease the ice wounds. I passed her my blanket. (first published 3/21/2022; 50 words)

Series: 50-word Prompts

Flash: Burn the World

August 25, 2019January 12, 2022 Erin Penn

Photo by Idea go from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Staring out at the burning world, the red blaze sinking into his dark skin, the warrior grinned as the ancient quote from Genghis Khan came to his mind, “It is not sufficient for me to succeed. All others must fail.” While Damdin had not yet succeed to his full sufficiency, those before him had surely failed.

Viking. Such a perfect term. To raid, to go on a quest to pillage, rape, and burn. While those cowering in their homes associate the term with white men in flowing blonde hair on the covers of the bodice rippers from yesteryear, the term applied to anyone who participated in those types of activities, if he remember rightly, and considering he taught history for over a decade, he did.

Now he and those who have joined him created a new Viking history, a new Mongol Horde as they leveled what is left of the false society. Burn everything to the ground and start over.

The aliens started the process, taking down the centers of commerce with strange weapons, destroying and changing everything they touched, before those who had believed their false claims of “coming in peace” turned the tide with even stranger weapons created by mad scientists reverse engineering stolen technology. None of the scientists started mad, but by the time they had worked on the creations enough to understanding them, all of the scientists were mouth-frothing insane.

He and his band will finish what the aliens had initiated, while watching the thousand falling chunks of starstuff from the aliens’ failure steak across the sky each night as they celebrate their victory in the arms of captured women.

“Damdin, Elba has sent a messenger to negotiate.”

“Is she pretty?” the war chef asked without turning around, knowing if the messenger had been male no report would have been made. His aide had been with him since the beginning.

“If you like pale-skinned, thin women used to sleeping in soft beds.”

“Brand her, feed her, and put her in my lean. Tomorrow we take Elba. Either they will offer us their soft bellies or we will slit them.”

The nineteen year old, a student from Damdin’s teaching times and disciple since the burning times had begun, ran to accomplish precisely that with no further acknowledgment, his booted footsteps fading quickly.

Once satisfied that the false dawn his raiders had made will shimmer on the horizon all night, reminding the town of Elba of their coming doom, Damdin retired to his lean-to to see what Elba deemed worthy to distract him from 30,000 souls they sheltered. Souls he would bend to his will on the morrow.

(words 440; first published 8/25/2019)