Flash Fiction Friday #11 - September 11, 2009

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Sep 10, 2009, 11:45:03 PM9/10/09
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Announcing an open call for stories: Flash Fiction Friday #11 on Sept.

11/11. It's a miracle ;)
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Sep 11, 2009, 8:58:38 PM9/11/09
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I hath posted! This be my first Flash Fiction!

Frederick flicked the switch at the back of his computer monitor,
tipped himself back in his chair and allowed his eyes to close,
willing himself to submerge into the vast recesses of his
subconscious. The darting flecks of coloured light on the back of his
eyelids quickly gave way to a deeper darkness, “as it should,” he
thought to himself as he tipped back further. He breathed in slowly,
listening, but paying no mind, to the speed at which his thoughts were
coming. Paying mind would, after all, defeat the purpose.

It is a known fact, proven by the medical types, that bits of the
brain will shrivel up and die from lack of use…like how if a kitten is
blindfolded for weeks right after its birth, the part of its brain
that controls sight won’t develop, and it would never see.

And…after his well-intentioned, carefully thought out plan had come to
pass, after the havoc and blistering pain refused to fade and the
shockwaves continued to emanate through time and space, the guilt had
come creeping in. The guilt, echoing the national sentiment that
perhaps he simply ought not to think.

And, as he continued to sink down further into the vacuum, as his
brainwaves slowed from beta into alpha, and into gamma and delta, his
last lingering thought was that it was the least he could do to work
on that.

hilary slater lamont

Sep 11, 2009, 10:23:11 PM9/11/09
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He counted the numbers backwards again. 11 11. He loved the way they were the same forwards or backwards. Numbers gave life such balance. There was the date last week, the 09 09 09. He had waited all season for it, and woke up early that day, just to feel the pleasure of being part of a number, a date, a measurable piece of history. 
He thought about all the dates to come, which would offer such exciting parallels. The absolute best, though, had to be the 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09. That had actually happened in his lifetime! He felt the thrill again, as he recalled how that day had felt. His skin had tingled all day, and he had stayed up until midnight that night, so that he could enjoy the full flavour of that time and day.
2009, the 8th month, the 7th day, the 6th hour, the 5th minute, the 4th second, on 3rd street, the 2nd house, and he lived on the 1st floor!
No one else on the planet had realized the importance of his time and place. He had seen it so far ahead, had moved into that horrible brokendown house, so that he could be at that exact location, at that exact time, so that he could go down in the Guiness book of Records, as having calculated the place and time of that moment! He would be famous, he was sure!
And now, today, his dreams had been dashed. 
Yes, 09 11 Damn.  The day he received their rejection letter, saying that his amazing research and calculations were of no value to them, and that his oh so long awaited fame was crushed into nothing. 
He would hate this date for ever. Nothing good could ever happen on this day.
H i l a r y   S l a t e r
Sustainable Landscapes


Sep 11, 2009, 10:36:37 PM9/11/09
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"A Very Good Year"

I've never believed in love at first sight, but there she was,
staring at me from across the piazza as I sipped a glass of '97
Tunina. As soon as my eyes met hers I knew that everything that I had
ever thought about love was going right out the window.
She slowly walked across the Piazza de Spagna. I could hear her
every step, the heels of her shoes creating a rhythm that my heart
raced to match. All the other sounds throughout the piazza fell away,
and I knew that she was crossing it just to talk to me.
I rose up from the cafe table just as she approached, bowing to her.
“Buona sera,” she said with a voice that was sweet, yet raspy. The
words seemed to dance off her tongue and across her lips, mamboing
into my ears with a gentle caress.
“Uh, hi,” I stammered out in response. Even after all these years in
Rome, I still default to English when I get nervous.
Our timeless moment was shattered by the shrill sound of a police
whistle. She snapped her head around in the direction of the whistle
in a way that told me that, whatever they wanted her for, she was
guilty. I didn't care. In that moment I would have fought Rome's
entire police force to keep her safe.
She didn't seem to agree that that was the best courses of action,
however. As quick as she could, she reached into her purse, pulling
out a pendant on a simple gold chain, a blank business card, and a
pen. She hastily put the pendant around her neck, and then wrote
something down on the business card.
“We'll have to continue this another time, mi amore,” she said, a
smile breaking across her beautiful face. “Meet me here,” she said,
handing the card to me. “Meet me here, and meet me then.”
I looked at the card – it had a set of latitude and longitude
coordinates, as well as a date – March 14, 1956. I paused for a
moment to marvel at how exquisite her handwriting was, even when she
was so rushed, and then looked up from the card in just enough time to
see her clasping the pendant around her neck. There was a bright
flash of light, and then she was gone.
Crap, I thought to myself. I'm going to need a time machine.

Cliff Stornel

Sep 11, 2009, 11:34:02 PM9/11/09
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Rescue dog

I was in the park playing Frisbee when it happened. Had just caught it and was running back to drop it at my Master’s feet. But he ignored it, I picked it up again dropped it on his feet. He didn’t even looked down all he did was stare off in the distance with a blank look on his face. Fear was in the air suddenly and it was all I could smell, I laid at the Master’s feet and looked across the river at the two towers as smoke trailed into the air from both of them.

It wasn’t anything that I did that broke it was his trace his phone ringing in his pocket that brought him back to me. He talked in to it and listened for a long time to the person on the other end. Afterwards he pressed the button, flipped it shut and stuffed it in to his pocket. "Come on Boy, we've got work to do!" He reached down and scratched that hard to reach spot between the ears and then together we jogged back to the parking lot and his waiting van.

I jumped in through the open door excited about work it meant helping people, treats and being with other dogs. My owner looked back at the towers as one crumbled right before his eyes and disappeared in to the ground. A cloud of dust rose up into the air obscure the city under it. My bark was enough this time to grab his attention and he slammed shut my door. As he climbed behind the wheel all I could smell was the salty liquid of his tears.

We raced home grabbed what we needed before reporting in. I could smell the dog treats through the nylon pouch. As we pulled out of the driveway, a voice in the car announced that the second tower had collapsed. Master blinked away more tears and drove off. I stuck my head out of the window to enjoy the wind in my face, I wanted to lie down in his lap and comfort him but he pushed me away each time I tried. Outside the air was thick with dust and smells that I didn't like. It was bad enough that I pulled my head back in and just lay in my seat.

The staging area was an office building about a mile away. They had brought everyone here that they could survivors, injured firemen and police, media and volunteers. A man in a black uniform pointed off to the left and Master followed his commands. Five dogs and their Masters where already milling about each of them wore the same look of fear and concern my Master had worn since we left the park. All of the dogs where frustrated that we couldn’t introduce ourselves but everything was a swirl of scents that was overlaid with fear, smoke and death. I don’t know how long we waited in that room, but it was long enough that I wanted to find a fire hydrant. As I pulled on my lead, a man walked in to the room followed by another man who in a heavy coat that smelled of smoke. The first man talked while the smoky one just stood in the back. Then after a few minutes the first man gestured to the other one and walked out.

All of the Master’s were handed hardhats and everyone fell in behind the smoky jacketed man and we walked towards what they where all calling ground zero. I knew what was expected of me but I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to there where just too many smells in the air. The site was chaos each team was assigned to work with a man in a smoky coat. Ours was friendly and tried to introduce himself but all I could smell was the smoke off his hand so I just looked up and wagged my tail, they seem to like that.

As soon as we were paired up it was off to work. I sniffed out the area in search of any persons scent. Master was commanded by the smoky man and I was proud of the way he followed them. He in turn led me to areas they thought most likely to have someone. I don’t know how they decided it was a most likely spot everything looked and smelt the same to me. The worst part was how it felt, my paws burned as I was led over the slabs of concrete and steel. What wasn’t hot and burning was sharp and cut at my pads. In the end I was one of the lucky ones. The first to find someone and I found them alive. It was a woman and a baby, the two of them had hid in the doorway of fire door. They still send me treats a couple of times a year and Master tells me that she named her new puppy Quinn after me.

It’s been 56 years since that day. My Master still looks sad sometimes as he looks across the river while we play in the park. Today for the first time we went back, I walk proudly at his side as we pass through a barricade into a private ceremony. Together we stood at the back of the crowd with other dogs and their Master’s that we had met on that day. We all mingled and smell one another trying to remember each. It was hard because the air is different this time around it isn’t filled with sadness and death but with hope.

Join the students at Carpe Arcanum for some wild adventures in University life and studies in Magic.

Be sure to check out the Magical Earth

You can also find my blog at

“One man's "magic" is another man's engineering. "Supernatural" is a null word.”
Robert A. Heinlein

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