‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #39. By Mark Bierman @mbiermanauthor #IARTG

HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO AUTHOR SUZANNE BURKE’S “FICTION IN A FLASH CHALLENGE!” EACH WEEK SHE FEATURES AN IMAGE AND INVITES EVERYONE TO WRITE A FLASH FICTION, OR NON-FICTION, PIECE INSPIRED BY THAT IMAGE IN ANY FORMAT AND GENRE OF THEIR CHOOSING. MAXIMUM WORD COUNT: 750 WORDS. IN ADDITION TO RUNNING A WONDERFUL BLOG, SUZANNE HAS WRITTEN MANY EXCITING BOOKS. PLEASE A HAVE A LOOK AT HER SITE: WECOME TO THE WORLD OF SUZANNE BURKE


Here is my contribution, enjoy!



“Thirty-three!”


“Huh? What? Aghh! Not this again! How do you even know? Oh, you did not just roll your eyes at me!”


“Look behind us.”


“I’m looking.”


“You see that second light on the structure, behind our car?”


“It’s out, so what?”


“Well, Freddo, that’s one thing, and bad enough. Also, your cranial excellence, that’s how I can tell we’re in car number thirty-three.”


“Gosh, Jake. You need serious help. Not everything has to be an even number.”


“Nice redmark on your left check, where you slapped it. Want me to give you one on the right, to match? It’s driving me crazy.”


“Ha. Ha. Funny guy. You know that those scissiors are probably sticky, from the cotton candy, right.”


“Nope. I carry wipes, for just such an occasion. Already cleaned them while we were standing in line."


“I guess you would have had time, since you let that family of six go ahead of us, because you wanted to be an even number in the lineup. You should have just waited until then, to give your cotton candy a trim.”


“Don’t know how you ate that bird’s nest. I mean, the stuff was so . . . poofy!”


“Hey, we’ve stopped.”


“You know Fred, your ability to state the obvious is astounding. Wait, we’re sitting at forty-one degrees!”


“Annndd, oh, never mind.”


“How do I know? See the strength tester, you know, the game where you use a sledgehammer to ring the bell? It’s ninety degrees, and we are at forty-one, by comparrison.”


“Will you cut that out! Stop rocking this thing! You can’t move it up or down, genius!”


“My scissors! Oh please land straight up!”


“Look out, down there! As if they’re gonna—”


“Yes!”


“Hey, the ferris wheel operator looks mad. He’s yelling up at us.”


“Pshaw! Who cares what a man with an uneven goatee has to say. I mean, look at that thing. Hey! I hope you have a suitable filter on your OKCupid profile selfie! Ouch! That hurts! Gonna leave a bruise on my arm.”


“Would you like one on the other, to match? Oh! We’re moving again. Why are you closing your eyes? I didn’t know that you’re afraid of heights.”


“Not the height. Can’t look at the skyline. I mean, it’s so different from up here. So, chaotic.”


“Those dastardly city planners! I mean, why didn’t they consult you, before allowing such diversity. Jake?”


“Ya?”


“We’re descending. You can look, now.”


“Oh, good. I need to get out of here, ‘cause those corn dog signs are crooked.”


“Don’t look.”


“Don’t look, Fred? You do realize that by saying that, I won’t be able to unpaste my eyes from them. The ground!”


“Hey, Jake. The ride is hardly stopped! You can’t just, sorry folks! He doesn’t mean to shove. He’s just gotta follow the straightest path to the car. Oh man, why through the fountain?”


“I found it Fred! You did a great job parking in section ‘B’! It’s number two in the alphabet, and the bumps are symmetrical. But why, oh why, did you have to buy a hatchback? Five doors? Really?”


“It came out to an even 14,000, after tax. Thought you’d be happy about that, at least. Hey, you know what comes in pairs? Feet! Yours in particular. Get the picture? What’s that? ”


“What’s? Hey! You locked me out! Why are you pointing to the backseat? It’s got a bench seat, three seatbelts, and way too close to that weird hatch thing. Oh, alright.”


“Umm . . . can you change the radio volume to an even number, please. Ah yes. No! Yes! Knock it off! I can see your crooked smile in the smudgy rearview, you know!”


***On the side***


How many of you actually counted the cars on the ferris wheel?

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Copyright © 2017 by Mark Bierman.