The planner is still working for me ((thumbs up)). I set some time aside to write three new flash fiction pieces, making 5 of 16. And it’s only February. I’m already so far ahead of last year.

Why did no one tell me of this before?! Sheesh. I feel like I should have figured this out sooner, and I’d be so much further along in all aspects of my life. This is one of those things that comes with age. Right?

Anyway, here are February’s offerings.

Humans

Humans were obsessed with space. They hadn’t even discovered the entirety of their own planet, and yet they were willing to traverse the vastness of dark space. They were silly creatures; prone to all manner of emotional outburts and frivolity. We had been among them for years, and they were none the wiser. We had done what we could to aid them in their advancement of basic “humanity” and science, but they were a stubborn bunch, only willing to coexist and rally around one another for the most inane of causes. They so rarely saw eye to eye. 

We had finally had our fill, unwilling to continue to bear witness to their ever declining state and left them to their own devices one autumn evening in spectacular fashion. Or so we thought. We timed it with one of their own explorative device launches, but they never saw it. They never knew what we had tried to do for them, what we had done for them. It’s not even worth mentioning now. Perhaps we’ll see them again one day. Perhaps not. Only time will tell what they’ll make of themselves.

Fibonacci

Casi stood in the center of the church, a kalidescope of color raining down upon her from above. She looked up, overwhelmed by the beauty of the hundreds of stained glass panels spiraling in a Fibonacci pattern from the tallest dome of the structure. The colors told a story, one she wasn’t adept at interpreting, but she felt the impact nonetheless.

The colors were only truly present at high noon when the sun, at it’s zenith, reflected their purpose, so there was only a short time each day to spend in reflection. Casi was given an hour. Her special ability was being tested, albeit unfairly. She had only just come into her power, and discovering the intention of the ancient marvel was something she wasn’t prepared for. She wasn’t sure she ever would be. Whoever had designed the unique feature had been touched in their own way.

Dad

It’s hard to think of Death as anything other than what he is. 

He’s the inescapable end. 

The intangible. 

The anti-thesis. 

The great neutralizer. 

The last measure for which almost all beings are desperate to avoid, and willing to barter and sacrifice any and all in an attempt at thwarting his purpose. It rarely works.

He’s also a father. My father. I call him Daddy when I’m feeling especially light-hearted, and although I’m mortal, he treats me like the rarest, most spectacular being to have ever existed. With so many afraid of him, unwilling to greet him, even those he considers his peers, I was an unexpected delight to his lonely existence. 

You may wonder how it is a mortal child found herself in Death’s grasp without crossing over. It’s not that exciting a story, just luck, I suppose, that a sad deity took pity on an abandoned tot.

There was a time he was afraid to touch me, because each time he did, it stilled my heart, but eventually, it no longer had an effect, I became something else. And how could I not share my affection with him? Mortals crave contact, and he discovered it was something he needed as well. So while I may have been raised in a strange realm, with an unconvential parent, I thrive. I live. Something that might not have occurred should I have been left alone that winter’s night long ago. 

~ * ~

I’d be delighted to read your creations, if you’d like to join me in the writing prompt challenge. Be sure to tag me or put a link in the comments, and I’ll share your work here, with your permission, of course.

Happy Writing!