After finishing my two Flash! Friday pieces, I turned my focus to the latest Janet Reid contest. To celebrate one of the regular flash fiction writers securing representation, Janet came up with a contest, asking us to incorporate
in a story. Always in the rules is the priviso that we can "bury" one of the keywords. So, as Janet noted, "amy/infamy is ok but amy/army is not." I liked the idea of amy/infamy, and used that as my starting point.
She was born on December 7, so her parents named her Infamy. For years she did her damnedest to live up to that moniker.
Buttered toast will stick to the ceiling, she learned by age 4.
Vinegar and baking soda were powerful reagents, age 7.
On her 18th birthday, her parents watched helpless as an armada of men sailed in and out of her bedroom, each planting his flag in this New World they dubbed "Paradise."
And yet, like the sailors of the Pacific Fleet, the bombs which shattered the calm one Sunday morning took them by complete surprise.