FF - It was the brightest moon of my life

Fast Fiction is fiction written fast. The object is to get your brain thinking about a given subject without interference from “reason”. Go for the 30 minute time limit.

Moderator: Metaphor Makers

User avatar
JillStar
Moderator+
Posts: 12824
Joined: Thu Jan 15, 2004 8:36 pm
Location: The land of Pensive Reflection

FF - It was the brightest moon of my life

Postby JillStar » Thu Dec 01, 2005 11:19 pm

jillstar wrote: Fast Fiction is just that... fiction written fast. Please visit What is FAST FICTION for more information.

Look at the subject for today's Fast Fiction at the end of this post... once you have the slightest beginning to your story… begin to write. Don't stop to ponder the meaning behind your writing or try to "fix" it so it's perfect... just write.

If you want to include your Fast Fiction finished product on WordTrip, simply add it to this thread. We would love it!

REMINDER: Please keep your stories PG13 if posted on the site. If you want a critique after you are complete, please consider using your writing group for help in that area or send a PM to one of us.

... try to stick to the 30 minutes time limit... ready, set... WRITE!

SUBJECT: It was the brightest moon of my life.
Last edited by JillStar on Fri Dec 09, 2005 11:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Fast Fiction Friday Blog 2011-2018: Additional FFF Prompts
User avatar
timberline
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 1468
Joined: Tue Apr 13, 2004 9:54 am
Location: Back home in south Jersey
Contact:

Postby timberline » Sat Dec 03, 2005 4:22 pm

I should be wrapping presents instead of scribbling and drinking wine, but so what. Trouble with writing sometimes is that you don't know how to end a piece. You choose from this case in point:

Brightest Moon of His Life

The traffic on Route 2 was a steady whoosh-whoosh, except for the trucks that roared past and the motorcycles that rumbled. None of them infringed on Alex’s state of mind. Damn, he almost didn’t care if he caught a ride east or had to hoof it forever. The moon overhead was obscenely full. What the Indians—the Naticks or the Mahicans or any of the long-dead tribes—would have called a wolf moon. Or was it a harvest moon? It was his moon! An auspicious moon.

Alex was heading home and that was what counted. Home to Karin in Boston. Karin once told him her name meant first moon or something like that in Hindu or Sanskrit. Who knows? Karin’s ass was two full moons. Her breasts were little moons. Her face was moon-like. She had forgiven him. Now, if only the dean at B.U. could forgive that little indiscretion and take him back for his sophomore year. It would help if Anna and his parents forgave him too, but it was almost too late for that.

The whoosh-whoosh decreased and a cloud slipped over the full moon. God, it was the brightest moon of his life. It was a science-fiction moon.

People were basically nice, he thought, shrugging his windbreaker tighter against his neck and switching the hand in his pocket with the one to flag down a ride. Karin said there was room for him to bunk on the couch until her roommate got back from a semester in England. Even the cop in Greenfield had been nice when he let Alex out after an hour in the tank. Drove him to the edge of town and said Merry Christmas.

Stockbridge to Boston. Not a long run. Indians used to walk it probably. The revolutionaries—Ethan Allen and the lot—used to walk it regularly.
He continued to walk backward, slowly, looking over his shoulder at the moon. It was an omen, a sign that things would turn around for him.

A car started to slow and put on its turn signal. Alex backed off the road so as to not get hit and waited. It pulled to a stop right next to him. Decent of the driver so Alex didn’t have to run and catch up.

He started to say, “Thanks, Mister,” anticipating the driver would ask, “How far you going?”

Ending #1
Instead a familiar face leaned across the passenger seat and the window rolled down. It was Anna, wearing her old boyfriend’s red crusher hat. Anna from Stockbridge. “I thought you’d be hitching on Route 2,” she said. “That’s what Henry said. After you went out of my bedroom window I told him it was over.” She lifted her arm and opened a hand in supplication. “I need you, Alex. Trusted you with my love. Even with the cash register at the store. Henry’s gone back to Manchester and we can be together forever.”

“I’m following the moon, Anna. It’s something I have to do.”

With a choked sob, the hand dropped. Anna put the car in gear, made a U-turn in the road and headed west.

Ending #2
Instead a familiar face leaned across the passenger seat and the window rolled down. It was Henry. Henry from Stockbridge. “I thought you’d be hitching on Route 2,” he said. “That’s what Anna said. After you went out of my bedroom window.” He lifted his arm and pointed a black revolver at Alex. “I trusted you, Alex. Trusted you with my store and the cash register. Trusted you alone with Anna. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice….” The gun went off and the bullet hit Alex between the eyes.

“Shoot for the moon, you bastard.”

He turned the car around in the road and headed west.

Ending #3
Instead a familiar face leaned across the passenger seat and the window rolled down. It was his father. “Alex, I couldn’t let you go after the words we exchanged on Thanksgiving. I know you want to go back to those folk in Boston.”

“Those folk are my people now, Pops. I’m going to ask if they’ll renew my scholarship, or even let me come back on probation.”

“If it’ll help, Alex, me and your Mom saved a little money. I said if I found you walking the road, I’d even drive you to Boston.”

“Well, maybe we can talk about it. In the car.”
 Cruising the Green of Second Avenue is available at Barnes & Noble and other online book sellers. More good stuff at http://allotropiclucubrations.blogspot.com
User avatar
JillStar
Moderator+
Posts: 12824
Joined: Thu Jan 15, 2004 8:36 pm
Location: The land of Pensive Reflection

Postby JillStar » Sat Dec 03, 2005 9:07 pm

Good to see you're writing in the Fast Fiction forum again Timber!!

I liked this story... though I'm not sure which ending I like best. I suppose my "good self" wants to pick #3 because it's the happiest ending in my opinion. #1 is also good... he moves on no matter what. #2 was just harsh... but then again, it was supposed to be.

Nice work... and thank you for sharing it.
Fast Fiction Friday Blog 2011-2018: Additional FFF Prompts
User avatar
mslover
Wordtrip Grand Master
Posts: 3113
Joined: Wed Aug 04, 2004 4:28 pm
Location: wherever the wind blows
Contact:

Postby mslover » Sun Dec 04, 2005 2:26 pm

i keep reading the title of this fast fiction and can only remember the blue moon scene in grease. lol the biggest moon of my life.

"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories - we've already missed the spring"

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning how to dance in the rain."
User avatar
wrathofpengy
Wordtripper
Posts: 37
Joined: Mon Nov 28, 2005 3:04 pm
Location: McAllen, Texas USA
Contact:

Postby wrathofpengy » Fri Dec 09, 2005 5:03 pm

My first real attempt at fast fiction. A little late, but I really liked this topic and wanted to submit. Let me know what you all think.

My body is racked with his thrusts, my mind clouding with the windshield of the old Ford. It's a 1955 model and he had compiled it himself from scrap. It’s not like that matter much at that point, though, and I choose not to think about it. Instead, I focus on the slow and steady rhythm of his body against mine.

My hands find their way to his back and I can feel his shoulder blades as he kisses my neck. Normally, I would find this lack of meat annoying and a bit disgusting, but tonight it doesn’t matter. None of this does, really. The only thing I’ll remember in the morning is the feel of the truck rocking gently in rhythm with his body – that and the sounds of Coldplay. I’ll always remember Coldplay.

“Check it out,” he says, “you get death and sex all in one night.”

I laugh lightly, “I’d say that was an accomplishment,” I whisper as I flash back to a cigarette burning red in the night. Death bares his ugly head again and I don’t want to focus on his red eyes (red like the cigarette’s glow).

I am carried back in time and find myself sitting again on the curb of Trenton Road looking at the car that threatened to end my existence. Bastard car, I think to myself, as I struggle to light up again. I’m shaking so hard I can’t get a flame going and the cigarette is growing moist in my mouth.

From nowhere, Gabriel’s hand reaches forward to help and its sudden presence produces a jolt of shock in my body. I jump slightly and he puts his hand on my, “Rachael, it’s okay. It’s just me.” I sigh and laugh a little as he lights the cigarette. His voice sounds a thousand miles away.

Ricky is sitting next to me now and I turn to see his pretty face. He’s trying to smile, but I can see he’s just as scared as the rest of us. His hand touches my arm and it’s cold. “Are you okay?” he asks me and all I can do is nod dumbly. He usually wears his long black curls pulled back, but tonight they’re loose and framing his beautifully pale face. He looks almost ghostly in the moonlight and for a fleeting moment I wonder what it would be like to make love to him. It’s amazing the things that cross your mind at a time like this.

“She’s still in shock,” Gabriel tells him as Ricky takes my hand. Gabriel’s arm is around me and through all of it I feel a tinge of guilt for being the only one to show what a coward I am.

Ricky pats me on the back and once again gets up to help Rene inspect the damage to the Camaro. Gabriel sits with me, his arm still around my shoulder. My mind starts to clear and the only person I am conscious of is my ex-boyfriend Chris and that he is not here. I want his arms to be around me and I want it to be his voice telling me that it’s going to be okay, but he is safe at home and I am sitting here on the street curb staring death in the face.

For the first time I look at the death machine. The paint is scraped at the bottom where the wheel grabbed, forcing the vehicle to spin out of control. The passenger’s window (where I had been sitting) was shattered and I can’t help but think that I should be dead right now. I picture myself in Rene’s car, my head bashed against the window, glass decorating the deep wound. I should have died of internal bleeding. The only one that might have had a chance is Ricky, beautiful Ricky.

“What happened?” I ask the night in a small voice, “we should have died. What happened?”

Gabriel is rubbing his hand up and down my left arm. “We flipped,” he says quietly, “The car lost control and we flipped. But we’re okay now.” He pauses for a moment and I hear him chuckle, “We’re okay. The car…er…not so much.” I smile in the moonlight and I can hear Rene making a call to his ex-girlfriend. He’s going to milk this for all it’s worth tonight, and I can’t blame him.

Gabriel releases me and stands; my attention goes with him. He offers his hand and helps me to my feet. “Look,” he tells me as he points to the moon, “Isn’t it beautiful.” Ricky and Rene leave their post beside the now broken car and come to stand with us. Together, we’re looking at the brightest, most beautiful full moon either of us has ever seen.

Ricky runs forward and jumps, his hand a silhouette against it. “I’ll catch the moon for you, Rachael,” he yells back at me as he jumps again, this time landing in a crouched position. He looks wolf-like in the pale blue light and as if he’s read my mind, he begins to howl.
"Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment." - Slaughter House Five, Kurt Vonnegut

Online Journal
Concentricus.com
Writings
User avatar
JillStar
Moderator+
Posts: 12824
Joined: Thu Jan 15, 2004 8:36 pm
Location: The land of Pensive Reflection

Postby JillStar » Fri Dec 09, 2005 11:03 pm

Thanks for sharing your story Pengy... I didn't see it until now (as I'm posting a new Fast Fiction). I hope you continue to practice with these challenges... and don't worry about being late... as a matter of fact, go ahead and go back through all of the past challenges if you like and see what stories unfold. :D
Fast Fiction Friday Blog 2011-2018: Additional FFF Prompts
User avatar
hisimage87
Wordtripper Extraordinaire
Posts: 427
Joined: Sun Dec 18, 2005 3:33 pm
Location: Bozeman, Mt
Contact:

Postby hisimage87 » Tue Feb 21, 2006 6:29 pm

Something I wrote earlier this month, kinda kiddy, but I think thats the point. :)

Criticism welcome

He ran across the cool grass, the dew on the ground soaking his feet. The air was cool, and the sky clear, a slight breeze blowing across the field. Simon’s focus was on the kids running just ahead of him. They had all been playing a game of tag tonight on the church property, this was about a acre of land behind a small church building. It was a quiet town, having many churches and a few cemeteries. The game had gone on for the past few hours, the adults where busy with important “Church Business”. The kids were past exhausted, but kept playing, mostly due to the fact that at this point there was nothing else to do but run, and run they did. Simon had taken off his shoes, in the hope that this would help him be “sneakier“, and he always enjoyed going barefoot anyway. The people running from Him were mostly girls, and a couple of his brothers. They split up, his brothers heading back in the direction of the church, and two of the girls running towards the huge tree that dominated the landscape. Simon chose to go after the girls, mostly because they were girls, and at his age that meant they would be easier to catch, and the prospect of chasing his brothers was something he did everyday. He had four brothers to be exact, they were a close nit group, growing up isolated from other kids their age, this had been a good thing allowing them the develop close bonds, and a moral code that rivaled the knights of old.
The girls ran behind the tree, thinking that Simon hadn’t seen them, this was not true, as Simon slowly made his way towards it, making sure not to be seen.
”Gotcha“ He yelled as He taped Megan on the shoulder. This in-turn alerted Kelsey to His presence, which caused Her to make a valiant attempt to run. It was in vain as Simon quickly caught Her pant leg, sending both of them to the ground.
”Hey, thats not fair“ She said, letting Her irritation at being caught show through.
”How is that?” replied Simon, a lop sided grin spreading across his face.
“Well I don’t know, but it still is” said Kelsey, now Kelsey was a bit of a whinier in the opinion of just about every kid this side of the Rockies, and getting Her way was not only mandatory, but the wisest thing to do in most situations, due in part to a very short temper, and a mother with an ever shorter one.
Simon watched as Kelsey continued to fume about the unfair treatment She was receiving, then turned to face Megan, who was also grinning, their eyes met, and for a brief moment they just stood like that ignoring the world around them. Simon thought about the way the moonlight shone on Her face, making Her look ever more beautiful than normal, if such a thing was possible. They quickly went back to the task at hand, which was to somehow get Kelsey quiet so the other kids didn’t find them, but for the rest of the night Megan was all He could think about, this was the brightest moon in His life.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/simontemplar

http://www.myspace.com/simontemplar87

http://macinmontana.blogspot.com

“Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music”

Angela Monet.
User avatar
Saphyre
Wordtripper Extraordinaire
Posts: 368
Joined: Sat Mar 01, 2008 4:29 pm
Location: At a perpetual crossroads, as are we all.

Postby Saphyre » Mon Feb 09, 2009 5:00 pm

It is the brightest moon of my life. Or maybe it just seems that way, because I can't help but think it might be my last. Funny what death does to you. I’ve read, in books, that when death looms close you are suddenly and completely more thankful for everything. That the grass feels softer and the air fresher and the sun kinder and the whole world sings. But that’s not what I'm feeling in this moment. The air is crisper- cutting my throat as it whistles into my lungs. The sidewalk is radiating heat collected during the day but it is not pleasant. And the moon is so bright- but the light that illuminates my world is coming from the streetlamps.

I try to take a deep breath to calm myself, but I can’t. My breath keeps having to fight the odd lump in my throat and my lips keep going dry. How long have I been staring at this gun? How long have I been trying to make sense of the face behind it? an hour? a half an hour? four minutes? Does it matter?

“Jason, try to calm down. We’ve called 911. The police are on their way. If you run now, they won’t catch you. We’ll tell them it was a prank call. No one will know what happened. Nothing will come of this. But we can’t do that if you leave a body behind you.” The voice comes from behind me. It’s Derek, one of my closest friends, trying to talk Jason out of shooting me. “This won’t help Sasha, Jason. Shooting her will not change anything.”

“Yes it will!” Jason’s eyes flicker to Derek, but the gun never moves. Neither do I, because there is no way he can miss at this range. “If it wasn’t for you” and by the way he spits out that word I know he means all of us, “my sister wouldn’t be dieing!”

“You’re right.” I admit at the same time Derek denies it, but I plow on. “If she had never joined the Misfits she would not have gone to the beach with us, and she would not have been attacked by a shark. Her wounds would never have been infected because they never would have been.”

I can hear Derek’s labored breathing as he tries to figure out what I’m doing. But I don’t know anything more than he does, and it doesn't matter. I know what I’m doing it right. “Sasha told me about you.” Jason challenges quietly.

“I’m sure she did. We’ve become close. What did she say, in particular?” his eyes are focused back on me, and though his finger is still resting on the trigger, his hand is no longer tense from trying to pull it.

“She said you see things. Things that come to be.” His tone is neither believing nor disbelieving. Neither scathing nor awed.

“That is true.” And sometimes it is. But it leaves so much unsaid.

“Did you see this?”

“What do you mean by this, Jason? I have never foreseen that you would kill me. But I did guess that Sasha might have more lasting repercussions than the doctors thought.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU DO SOMETHING?!”

“I did.” Short answers seem to be all I can manage. “The doctors didn’t listen. And nothing was certain.”

“ARE YOU CERTAIN NOW?”

“Jason what are you trying to prove? Why are you here? There are at least 16 of us in the Misfits. Why target me?”

“Isn’t your fault? YOU saw this. Sasha told me. But you didn’t see this.”

“Are you trying to prove my visions are fallible? Jason, we know that already. I have prevented much that I have seen. And much good that I have seen and hoped for, have tried to help to be, has never come to be. It’s not certain Jason. The visions contradict themselves, and often the reality is so different it resembles none of them. Killing me will prove nothing.”

“Yes. It will. You didn’t foresee this.” He takes a step closer, and now his hand is tense again. I switch tactics, from truth to lies.

“You’re wrong. I have foreseen my death. It occurs here, on this street, with that gun you’re holding.”

“You LIE! You said you didn't see this!”

“No, Jason, I didn't. Because it’s not you that shoots me.”

“What happens?” the gun lowers just an inch in confusion. I have to keep talking.

“The police come. So do the Misfits, and the neighbors. For four hours everyone is yelling and screaming and trying to get you not to shoot me. Then your family hears, and they come." I lick my lips, watching the gun slowly creep down. I have to keep the lie interesting enough to keep that gun dropping. "By the time it is almost dawn, they are here, and they have Sasha with them. The infection is gone and she will live. The treatment worked, despite your lack of faith. Sasha freaks when she sees you." Talking about Sasha is good. Jason has almost forgotten the gun now, and it is half-way to the ground. "She gets through the police barrier with an inhumane strength that comes from sheer panic. You turn in surprise and the gun goes off, but no one is hit." The gun begins to raise again. I reminded him of it. I force myself to keep lying. "The police open fire, seeing negotiations have failed and fearing for Sasha’s life. I step in the way of a lethal shot in an attempt to get Sasha out of the line of fire of a rookie." The gun dips again as he waits desperately for news of what comes next. "All three of us are dead by sunrise.”

Now the gun is at his side, and his face is white. “You’re lying.” But Jason doesn't sound disbelieving. I step forward and close the space between us quickly, jamming my elbow into his face and ramming my knee up at the same time. Instincts honed by karate dictate that I follow this combination up by grabbing his gun hand and flipping him over my still-raised knee. I obey. By the time the cops get to me, the moon’s not so bright anymore. At three that afternoon I get a phone call- Sasha’s treatment worked.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad for lying through my teeth.
~Saphyre
For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus…
For by grace you have been saved through faith… it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.
Please always feel free to critique anything I write as I am by no means perfect!
User avatar
Writingmom
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 827
Joined: Tue Nov 04, 2003 5:07 pm
Location: Utah

Postby Writingmom » Thu Feb 12, 2009 9:27 am

Wow...what a group of stories!! timber, I really liked that you had three different endings...what a choice. Hiss, I really liked yours too...good job everyone. 8)
http://ldspaz.blogspot.com
~*~ Writing is life ~*~
User avatar
JillStar
Moderator+
Posts: 12824
Joined: Thu Jan 15, 2004 8:36 pm
Location: The land of Pensive Reflection

Postby JillStar » Thu Feb 12, 2009 6:51 pm

Very nice Saphyre!!!

It's amazing how this post has undergone so many moments on the front page... Dec of 2005 all the way up to Feb. 2009. WOW!!!
Fast Fiction Friday Blog 2011-2018: Additional FFF Prompts
User avatar
Saphyre
Wordtripper Extraordinaire
Posts: 368
Joined: Sat Mar 01, 2008 4:29 pm
Location: At a perpetual crossroads, as are we all.

Postby Saphyre » Thu Feb 12, 2009 7:44 pm

I went back and re-read my piece, and suddenly realized it's written in present tense. When did that happen? Isn't the topic in past? *checks prompt* it is. What happened?

And do I dare change it? no- it flows this way. wierd. I never do that.
~Saphyre

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus…

For by grace you have been saved through faith… it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.

Please always feel free to critique anything I write as I am by no means perfect!
User avatar
Writingmom
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 827
Joined: Tue Nov 04, 2003 5:07 pm
Location: Utah

Postby Writingmom » Fri Feb 13, 2009 8:47 am

lol...sometimes you don't have any say... 8)
http://ldspaz.blogspot.com

~*~ Writing is life ~*~
User avatar
pengwenn
Wordtrip Fixture
Posts: 5534
Joined: Tue Aug 10, 2004 6:01 pm
Location: a nice padded cubicle
Contact:

Postby pengwenn » Fri Feb 13, 2009 11:31 am

The story does as the story wills. Sometimes you've just got to let it flow.
Is this my reality or yours?
User avatar
timberline
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 1468
Joined: Tue Apr 13, 2004 9:54 am
Location: Back home in south Jersey
Contact:

Postby timberline » Fri Feb 13, 2009 3:22 pm

Thanks, 'Mom. Submitted it once into the limbo of the Whidbey Writers competition. Perhaps they wanted an ending, but it didn't pass muster.
 Cruising the Green of Second Avenue is available at Barnes & Noble and other online book sellers. More good stuff at http://allotropiclucubrations.blogspot.com
User avatar
timberline
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 1468
Joined: Tue Apr 13, 2004 9:54 am
Location: Back home in south Jersey
Contact:

Postby timberline » Wed May 16, 2012 2:02 pm

Wow, it's been seven years since I wrote the piece above. Retitled "Under the Worm Moon," it will appear in The Corner Club Press Issue 7 in a couple of weeks. Some things just take a little time.
 Cruising the Green of Second Avenue is available at Barnes & Noble and other online book sellers. More good stuff at http://allotropiclucubrations.blogspot.com
User avatar
Hissmonster
Wordtrip Fixture
Posts: 9359
Joined: Sat Nov 29, 2003 12:04 am
Location: Boston, MA

Postby Hissmonster » Mon Feb 18, 2013 8:45 pm

You know what I find interesting in reviewing your ff posts....how many of them were written years before they were eventually published. Good work; I admire your tenacity.
"Come to the dark side; we have coffee!"
User avatar
timberline
Wordtrip Junkie
Posts: 1468
Joined: Tue Apr 13, 2004 9:54 am
Location: Back home in south Jersey
Contact:

Postby timberline » Mon Feb 18, 2013 9:02 pm

Thanks, Hiss. I don't know how many sold, but I've often told Jill she's been my inspiration to get the juices flowing.
 Cruising the Green of Second Avenue is available at Barnes & Noble and other online book sellers. More good stuff at http://allotropiclucubrations.blogspot.com
User avatar
Hissmonster
Wordtrip Fixture
Posts: 9359
Joined: Sat Nov 29, 2003 12:04 am
Location: Boston, MA

Postby Hissmonster » Mon Feb 18, 2013 9:07 pm

Yeah, she's our resident muse.
"Come to the dark side; we have coffee!"

Return to “Fast Fiction Friday”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest