#flashwriting

Don’t miss it!

"Cheerio," Lonnie said, to me and Grandma. "Where you goin'?!" said Grandma. "Home," said Lonnie. She was done for the day. If she had been taking care of Grandma and Grandpa all day--and she had--she sure didn't look it; her spirit was brighter and livelier as ever. You get good at keeping up appearances. "You're takin' our car--the car we just came in?" "Oh, no, not the boat!" She meant Grandpa's Ford Crown Victoria. I laughed. It was about the size of a tugboat. "My car, I'm taking my car." "Oh," Grandma said, sadly. I knew what was coming. I could feel it brewing the moment Lonnie said "Cheerio," as she walked out the front door. "Well, you could take me with you." "I'm going to my home," said Lonnie. "Can you take me to mine?" Lonnie had already gone. "I'm sorry," I said. "But Grandma, this is your home. You live here." "I live here?" "Mm-hm." I nodded. "And my husband?" "Yup." "How long?" "'Bout fifty-four years." "Fifty-four years?" "That's right." "That's a long time. I've been around a long time, I guess I'd better go."

But it was already too late. He turned back the way he came, but before he could get anywhere he saw the shadow of something or someone, and the knife coming at his back, and he thought he felt the blade. He hadn’t the sensation of feeling before in a dream. But when he reached behind him and pulled the hilt, he felt his muscles tearing.

“In the words of Janice Ian,” I said, “I’m the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet.”

‘Not again’ I think as an aggravating sound bares throughout the room. I close my eyes as I relinquish the last few moments of silence left in the day. I slowly slither out of my black, plastic hut only to observe a human’s face pressed up against the glass, his eyes curiously starring inside with his prying eyes. Irritation surfaces every time they peer in to watch my every move. I can feel my fury slowly building up as more students gather around me and wag their fingers at me. I don’t know what to do to get them to retreat back to their desks. I rancorously turn my body and raise my head to better observe the juvenile delinquents whose faces are against the glass. The poor kids didn’t have time to blink before I rapidly extended my body, hitting the side of the glass with unmatched momentum. The throbbing in my head pushes me back down. But when I look back up, the children scurry away in fear. Attacking the glass was definitely worth it. 

A big majestic turtle was making a hole on the beach. Her spiky legs so unique. Her yellowish, greenish colors shine in the sun. She feels happy, but scared for her eggs. She sees the big blue waves. She thinks about her youngs adventures. Any month she knows its time. The sky darkens. She walks away knowing she won’t see them again, but loves them with all her heart. 

Yellow on the top and white on the bottom, like an unflipped pancake. Head with spots like a giraffe. Nose and mouth a triangle, waiting for crickets. My tail is spongy and purple like a marshmallow. My skin is bumpy like hills and valleys. My eyes are waiting for something interesting. I drag my body in the warm sand and stop to take a nap.

My skin is bumpy like goosebumps on a cold day. My back and head, yellow-green like the sun shining through the trees. My gentle but claw-like hands move slowly yet jerkily as I drag my heavy tail along the sand. Its color, purple-gray like a sunset on a stormy day, spotted like a cheetah. Its shape like a Christmas light yet soft and squishy like a water balloon. My tongue darts in and out rapidly as I await my dinner of crickets.