Former Drill Sargent Haines boots him out for dropping F-bombs…. Freshman returns following morning. Haines halts him at the threshold.
“Change your attitude?”
“Fuck off!” Kid pulls a blade.
Haines decks him and the knife disappears.
Haines’s cuffed; marched outside….
Cop asks, “Where’s your car?”
“Over there.”
“Get in and don’t come back to Batterson.”
______________________________________________ Care to hear me read these 55 words?
_____________________________________________________ If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55 Fiction piece (in 55 words), then please come tell G-Man.
Burnt coffee and B.O. headache. Inside it rains; drips into scattered pails. Spectacled, natural beauty who reads Wittgenstein on break slips into the storeroom; then returns past with semi-transparent white trash bags stretched from empty cups and pastry. Venus takes out the garbage—I muse, convinced the yuppie broker wraps her life in birthday fur.
________________ Want to hear me read this one?
_____________________________________________________ If you or anyone you know has written a Friday Flash 55, then please come tell G-Man.
Royalty
“What majesty should be” Ransomed kings Criticism to crow about No RSS feeding enslavement Without creativity crossing utility lines
Dotted eyes, black shadows sway in the wind Eviscerating wastelanding tragic dross
Horse powered hamster wheels
The circle run
Bulldozers push, upturning
Severed doll parts, smushed milk cartoons
Fertile lies, careers Clearing ski hill sized dumps With reigns held back Or maybe sold out Through market trends, tickering taint Puppeteers, overworked interns And pimping agents! …Ivanhoes, please I am the terrible one
Sorry if you think this harsh Borders now crossed to bright light Our planet’s temperature like the sun also rises As weeklies (as well as most companies) continue to set
Downsized they call it trend Due preference of a millennial generation not buying newsprint When smart phones pick up Starbucks Wi-Fi signals It takes one faint pressured point to get to craigslist
Stop thinking in terms mechanical There is room for dead language footnotes References to forgotten mythologies Get medieval if you so choose Dropping, echoing pecks without whirring hums Or the bleating squeals sparking old modems After sticky relic taps played without electricity Devoid of cut and paste, and literary nerds Gutenberg couldn’t picture our days Driven by Google search
Windows opening one’s Facebook page
Think about past artists’ shun Censorship, blacklists, ex-patriots In cyberspace remaining chance Digest, you can’t erase this
“Brevity is the soul of wit” Polonius first said it, ironically Shakespeare could not imagine texts and retweets Or a wired earth in which peer artists Encourage creativity, support, universal broadband connections Global renaissance through computer inventions Where one’s key strokes lead to instant feedback Which will not obscure death when broke hearts attack For a single typefacing metal-headed ribbon slapping caste off writer