Round 1: 250-Word Micro-fiction Challenge 2020
Parameters: Genre: Suspense/Thriller ~ Action: Chewing Gum ~ Word: Grip [or a form of the word]
"Sounds like a cow pulling its foot outta the mud," I’d echoed my old man's words, gruffly spoken, anytime I chewed gum. The kid had it coming; though I regretted my tone. Rumination.
I clenched my armrests tight, continuing to gulp deep breaths, like my therapist instructed when sweaty fear gripped me, twisting my gut. Reality.
"Tell your brat to keep his body-parts off my seat. While you're at it, tell him to chew with his mouth closed. Sounds like a goddamn cow pulling its foot outta the mud." Would Dad's angry words be my last? Regret.
We were hurtling through space—downward—my head melding with the seatback. G-forces.
I heard crying and mumbled prayers to different gods and it suddenly hit me; I'd forgotten to pay my electric bill before I left. Random thoughts.
I thumbed the beads of my rosary one-by-one—working down the chain—my lips barely moving as I too began to mumble a rusty prayer. It had been a while, "The Lord's Prayer," feeling strange in my mouth but somehow comforting.
A ping from somewhere in the back followed by hushed spidery words, “Okay, Captain,” before a frantic voice began shouting, "Brace! Grab ankles. Heads down. Stay low. Brace! Grab ankles. Heads…" a broken record as we plummeted, the glow of fire vivid just under the left wing.
I struggled to turn my head, an attempt to see the seat behind me, "Sorry, kid." Redemption.
My conscience clear, as we plunged into a dark sea.
By Lisa H. Owens
NYCMidnight presents its 250-word Micro-fiction Challenge 2020
Round 1: 5,400 entries divided into 120 groups
Each group is assigned a Genre, Action and Word
Group 13: Suspense/Thriller, Chewing Gum, Grip