by Michael Seese
Some days the words just flow. As has been the case on a couple of recent Fridays, there was both a Flash Friday and a Janet Reid flash fiction contest. And I managed to wrap up both before dinner.
For the Flash Friday contest, we were to work off this image
and include a either student or include a road worker. And, exactly 89 words.
I really don't remember what gave me the idea, but pretty quickly I had "Con Dolore" wrapped up and in the books.
I'd paused to wipe the sweat from my brow when a chill, defying the heat, traversed my spine. A siren song—close in distance, distant in memory—bade me to drop my pick-axe and pursue the fluid notes to their fountainhead, despite the entreaties behind me, begging me not to wander.
In a clearing sat a group of musicians, playing as one. Their faces conveyed the serenity I lost the day the soldiers came.
I sang, momentarily happy.
A sharp rifle retort punctuated the final note of our symphony.
Early tomorrow, I will post the Janet entry, "Where There's A Will...."
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