Category: Visual

Flash: Sixteen years

Erin Penn

Photo by AllGo – An App For Plus Size People on Unsplash

Adam held up the wall, waiting, concerned. Beyond concerned, but not wanting to appear so. His child was on the other side of the door in this industrial nightmare, and all he could do is watch through the little window.

Sixteen years.

The world is fucked up when you only get sixteen years. Maybe Danielle wouldn’t test positive, but Adam knew in his heart-of-hearts she was already displaying all the signs of the Change. If he had money, any money, he would have bribed their way across the southern border. Mexico didn’t kill their Changed.

Not like the Free States of America.

His dark-haired princess looked over her shoulder at him while the officials waited for the test results. Only he could tell they weren’t waiting. They already had the results and were getting the shot ready. That wasn’t random fiddling.

He took his hand out of his pocket to flash “I love you” in sign language. It had been their signal of just him and her against the world for years. She flashed him a smile and the same hand symbol in return, two center fingers down against the palm, two fingers on the outer edges up and thumb out.

The doctor said something to the observing school official, a needle in the hand. Danielle turned back to what was happening in there.

(words 224, first published 4/25/2023 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)

By a Landslide Series
Sixteen years (10/11/2020)
Oopsie (11/8/2020)

Flash: Too Close

Erin Penn

Photo by Carlos Arthur M.R on Unsplash

Spitting out sand and dirt, Megan rolled over as she regained consciousness, into a thorny something which tore into her business coat, but the tweed fabric prevented the plant from scratching her. Where was she? The sun was beating down on her like she was at work. It was hot, fucking brutally hot, way beyond being outside in Richmond in July. The sand and dirt burned to touch. She had been … what had she been doing??

A shadow crossed her, bringing relief from the scorching sun. Megan looked up.

The flyer.

She swallowed hard.

(words 95; first published July 10, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)

Getting Closer Series
Getting Closer (9/27/2020)
Too Close (10/4/2020)

Flash: Getting Closer

Erin Penn

1156430 © Michael Iwasaki | Dreamstime.com

Twenty-four floors up and you’d think the Civic Assistant Supervision offices should always be brightly lit during the daylight hours in their glass building, but the office building across the street stood even taller and gave welcome relief from the afternoon sun, allowing the air conditioner time to catch up. The shadow had crept away to the north side about an hour ago, leaving Megan sweating again under the seven o’clock summer sun hitting her desk. Her most recent promotion had moved her closer to the window, making her debate the benefits of further promotions on days like today.

Days where a jail break left one of their subcontractor-employee guards dead, six injured, and twelve fugitives outside their containment. With the help of satellites, software recognition, and local law enforcement, Megan lived up to her name Bloodhound and nine were back in custody and two more about to be recaptured. Leaving only one left.

The dangerous one.

The one who hadn’t responded to the nano-neutralizers Dr. Masters had created for the powered criminals.

She adjusted her screen yet again away from the glare. Flyers usually couldn’t help flying, and so many satellites pay attention to the air. Weather, missile observation, and aviation monitoring only scrapped the top lichen off human’s fascination with monitoring the sky. Megan wiped her forehead, ignoring the quiet around her. Only her supervisor remained. All other services had passed down the line to their California branch.

Her powers were minuscule compared to most, too narrow an application, but perfect for finding people. She nudged the mouse to click a different satellite download. Her gut said she was getting closer to her prey.

Her area desk darkened as a cloud crossed the sun, bringing welcome relief from the heat, except the edge of the shadow didn’t carry the soft diffusion of a cloud. The dark shadow was too solid.

Looking up from the screen to the outside, Megan saw a very different object between her building and the sun.

(words 332; first published May 30, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)

Getting Closer Series
Getting Closer (9/27/2020)
Too Close (10/4/2020)

Flash: Three-Fold Returns

Erin Penn

5496139 © Leeloomultipass | Dreamstime.com

A swoosh of her skirts, and that was all she needed to control the room. Color me jealous. Her dark eyes danced a tango when they met mine, sparkling in their cat’s eye liner. A shared secret smirk made my heart skip. What was my witchy friend about to do to these men?

I shouldn’t have cried on her shoulder last night. I really shouldn’t have.

(words 66; first published May 30, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words.)

 

Flash: Beep

Erin Penn

Acquired from Unsplash

No one visited the old ship anymore. It had failed them, and the generation born from the Sky-Fallen followed in their parent’s manner, avoiding the heartbreak of broken promises. At least the double-sun hid the black. Stars didn’t cruelly shine on their lost travelers.

Except Julius. Last born of the Sky-Fallen, full of the nanites to help others to survive the dark and radiation. They had the third and last booster the day navigation glitched. Unlike their brethren, they had no memory of the stars and they had all of the hunger for the unknown the children lacked. They came often to this inbetween place. The only location between sky and ground that understood them.

Thus they heard the beep.

(words 120; first published 4/30/2022 – created from visual prompt for a Facebook writing group. Goal was 50 words; I went over.)

Beep Series
Beep (7/26/2020)
Ship’s Center (9/6/2020)