This abandoned car is oh, I don’t know, maybe a half mile or so from my humble yet lovely abode and it’s been parked right there for as long as I’ve lived in my said humble yet lovely abode, which has been oh, I don’t know, maybe eighteen years or so.
Every time I pass the beautiful, wabi-sabi of a relic on one of my walks, I always think to myself, I bet there’s a heck of story to go along with that thing…
And I also always tell myself that one of these days Ima gonna write my own story about it.
Well, unfortunately I haven’t yet been inspired to do so but… one of these days.
But, hey, perhaps you being the creative-on-the-fly literary artist that you are, you have already found within yourself a tale inspired by this poor yet achingly beautiful (at least to yours truly) abandoned automobile.
So, how ’bout this…
If you or anyone else has the creative gumption to post a 100-word or less, including the title (it must have a title), flash/micro fiction story in the comments below, I will send a signed paperback copy of my latest novel* to whomever writes the story that receives the most Likes by midnight my time, Sunday, August 11, 2019. I will then profile that story on my blog.
UPDATE: It’s been so long since I’ve done one of these fun things that I forgot to request that only the flash fiction be posted in the comments section. All other comments will regrettably be deleted, including the ones already posted, so as to keep the focus on the stories. Also, please only “like” the stories you like. Please don’t respond with any comments. If you feel the need to show any further appreciation other than a “like,” please visit the author at her/his/their website. Cool? Ice cold.
So, have you got that kinda gumption within?
Surely you do.
Write on, my friends!
#reblogthisyo
*You may not have noticed but The Good Kill [about] has been rising fast within the Amazonian ranks and yesterday was welcomed for the first time within the coveted realm of Top 100 Best Sellers in two of its categories — Political Fiction and Financial Thriller. It’s on its way folks… Yeehaw!
VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE STORY BY GIVING IT A LIKE
The Getaway Car
Abandoned burnt out, hidden in the undergrowth, joyrider’s relic
The Green Door
A panicked cry from my 10-year-old brother caught my attention. Typically, I ignored the little bastard, but something in that yell made me take notice. Charlie was always checking out the old Malibu covered in rust, dirt and leaves in our woods. The driver’s side door was a putrid green that contrasted with the murky brown of the rest of the car. I looked up and saw two skinny arms reaching through that green door, grabbing Charlie as he tried to escape. Charlie’s wide, tearful eyes disappeared into that living green hell. And I wept.
An Abandoned Car… Not So Abandoned
I had once gotten lost and was searching my way to go back home. Suddenly, it started to rain. What would have looked like greenery calming one’s nerves in the daylight was looking every bit scary. As it was raining, I started finding a shelter for the time being. As I saw a car, I approached it. It looked abandoned. I tried to open the door. Howling and haunted noises started coming from inside the car and they got louder and louder by the second. I started running away from it while also getting the feeling someone was following me. Seemed like that abandoned car was not so abandoned, afterall.
Cocoa Fierce & The Pantyhose Strangler by Sean C. Wright-Neeley
1977
He drove to a secluded, leafy spot, and looked at Cocoa covertly when they stopped. She patted her blonde wig, contrasting her chocolate skin, and popped her gum, pretending not to notice him pulling out a pair of nylons. Cocoa slammed his head against the steering wheel before he could act. He was out cold. Cocoa handcuffed him to the steering wheel. Vice arrested The Pantyhose Strangler. However, his car remains where he intended to assault and kill his fourth prostitute.
Rust and Rot: A story of life and love
After the accident the Charger would be left undisturbed in respect for the dead. Though life moved on the car remained. With no one to remember, it sat rusting until Steven and Krystin wondered upon it.
Images of Life and Love overtook their minds while acting out stories of the beast before them. Hurrying home to tell their parents what they had found, Steven’s mother teared, thinking of her dear sister. Krystin’s father turned away. Memories of his lost love flashing through his mind. Love never died, only pushed aside.
When He Gets Back
My older brother told me that as soon as he got back he was going to help me fix up that old car. Then we’d be able to take it for a spin through the sticks with a couple of girls and some beers. I can still see him standing there in full dress uniform with a bag in his hand. Sure, it’s been a few decades and the grandkids want to get rid of it. But that car isn’t going anywhere. Not until he gets back.