So I participated int he NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Contest again. It’s so much fun!! I love it!! It pushes you to think outside of the box and sometimes you get a good story. Now if your like my fellow writer friend, Meagan Hart, you have mastered the short stories!! Please see her page below.
She’s missed all but one point in her group. She’s fierce and I hear she’s coming out with a book of haunting tales just in time for Halloween!!!
But here’s the Story I submitted and it earned me 9 points out of 15!!!
Six Pack Abs: Not Your Mother’s Fairytale
Emma Lou rides her bicycle to her grandmother’s house to deliver her dinner. On her way she runs into an ex-boyfriend and is almost ran off the road. But the real surprise is waiting for her at her grandmother’s house.
The long winding street lay out in front of Emma Lou like an asphalt river. She needed to navigate the fastest route to her grandmothers before nightfall. No one wanted to be out here at night. Bad things happened at night. In the city. In the ghetto.
After determining the quickest way to her grandma’s house via her smart phone, she started on her way. On her way she passed brightly colored shops and flamboyant men and women on the streets. San Fran was full of main characters.
Ten minutes later she was staring down a steep drop in the road.
“Damn hills,” she muttered as she positioned her pack before pushing off.
Cool air whipped her hair around as she coasted down the steep decline, careful not to slam on her breaks. She didn’t want to be wearing her mom’s warm famous spaghetti and meatballs.
Gliding to a stop at the end of the street, Emma Lou paused and frowned up at the dark gray clouds barreling overhead like a bad omen. She pulled up the red hood of her jacket and continued on her way.
Rain began to fall convincing her to stop under an awning that was in front of a bar. A bar she use to sneak into with her ex-boyfriend, Hunter.
“Fancy meeting you here.” A male voice said and Emma Lou turned to see Hunter smiling at her. His hood was pulled up as well and he was holding a skateboard.
“What do you want?” she said wishing the rain would stop so she could leave. This was not how she intended to spend her Sunday evening.
“I am assuming the same as you.” He said and glanced at my back pack.
“That your mom’s famous spaghetti?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she muttered and pulled her bag closer.
“You headed to your grandma’s again aren’t you?”
“Are you stalking me?” Emma asked turning to glare at him, but he was already gone.
The rain had slowed and just as she took off, she noticed a man with a thick beard and mustache pass her on a moped almost knocking her off her bike. She flipped him the bird before continuing on her way.
She arrived at Peterson and Son’s Funeral Home and leaned her bike up against the stairs and wrapped her padlock around the middle bar. The moped that almost ran her off the road was parked a little ways down next to hearse. Now she felt bad. Maybe the wolf-man was on his way to a funeral or something. She took the metal stairs up to her grandmother’s one bedroom apartment above the funeral home, wondering if she had received the letter she’d sent about her not going to college. If she had, then Emma would be in for an ear full.
When she reached the top of the landing, she noticed that her grandma’s backdoor was slightly open. Maybe she had forgotten to close it or something, Emma thought as she pushed through the door.
“Grandma are you here?”
“In the bedroom,” came a muffled voice and she calmed her nerves and began to unpack. When Emma had finished setting the table and grandma hadn’t joined her, she wandered into the bedroom. The lights were off and Emma stopped herself from turning them on.
“Gram’s the table’s set.”
“Not hungry.” She said, her voice still muffled like she was facing the pillow or something.
“That’s not going to happen, mama spent all day making you her famous meatballs.” She said and flipped on the light illuminating her grandmother lying in bed with the wolf-man.
“What’s going on?” she shrieked.
“Nothing dear,” her grandmother said and sat up pulling the covers around her. “We were just talking.”
“Uh huh, I’ll leave you…two…alone.” Emma said shutting the door and returning to the living room in a daze.
A knock on the door pulled her from the images of her grandmother’s bare shoulders and the wolf-man’s red face.
She opened the door and Hunter was standing in front of her.
“I thought you could use some dessert.” He said and lifted up a quart of ice cream.
“You have no idea.” Emma said and pulled him inside and went to the kitchen and grabbed two spoons then led Hunter out to front balcony.
“I thought you were going to have dinner?”
“That was before I caught my grandmother having sex with the wolf-man.”
“What!” Hunter laughed and she joined him a few seconds later.
“It’s not funny!”
“But it is. Your grandma…she’s a wild cat.” Hunter said smiling over at Emma.
“Thanks for rescuing me. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He said.
“Emma, dear are you still here?” called grandma and joined Emma and Hunter a few minutes later.
“We decided to have desert first.” Emma said and her grandmother smiled at her and invited Hunter over for dinner.
“Where’s your friend?”
“Oh dearie, he’s gone, you frightened him away. No worries he’ll be back.”
“Grandma,” Emma said wishing she had left.
“Oh honey, just because he looks like a wolf doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”
“Your “wolf” almost knocked me off my bike on the way over here to see you.” Emma added.
“I’m sure he’s a nice man.” Hunter said.
“No, no he’s not, but there are other reasons he visits me.”
“Grandma, please were eating.”
Grandma filled her plate and sat back to eat.
“Emma, if there’s one thing I teach you in this life, it’s never to judge a book by its cover. There might be a set of six pack abs under all that