FF - The day tattoos were outlawed.

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.

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FF - The day tattoos were outlawed.

Postby JillStar » Fri Dec 09, 2005 11:06 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: The day tattoos were outlawed.
Last edited by JillStar on Thu Dec 22, 2005 8:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Fast Fiction Friday Blog 2011-2018: Additional FFF Prompts
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Postby tearsonroses » Sun Dec 11, 2005 2:57 am

Here is my attempt at first fast fiction. Let me know what you think.

The hot sun was beating down on the people waiting. Some had brought chairs and some were being held forcibly. It didn’t matter who you were, or if you struggled or not. Everyone had to comply. Non-compliance meant death, or something worse. This clinic was like the rest, too small for the volume. Anyone who had markings, or needed to be cleared was waiting.
At first there had been great opposition to the new legislation, but people began to disappear. Soon people learned to keep their mouth shut. A little grumbling was allowed, but there was no forgiveness for those who crossed the line.
No one had expected the war, or where it would come from. It was swift, like the black plague, and wiped out a third of the world’s population.
When They first came They were peaceable, and solved many of the world’s problems.
We had fallen into constant wars, immorality, and greed. There were a few mega powers that had all of the wealth while the rest of the world died of starvation or lived in positions no better than slavery. When They came They changed it all. They fed the hungry, freed the oppressed, and made society what it should be. Life on Earth was a utopia, for a while.
There were slowly, and subtly more rules and regulations, but these were to keep the world safe, to keep it from falling into its previous state. At first everything seemed to be okay. There were a few radical groups that spoke out trying to open the eyes of the blind masses that were too content with all of the good things that had been handed to them. The radicals insisted that the Elysians, for that is what They were called, were taking us under their control. Nobody gives something for nothing. Of coarse no rational person believed them, until it was too late.
Now we have no weapons, all of our food and shelter is provided by Them. We have nothing to strike back with now that They have shown their true nature. Today They began the first of the new de-culturization programs. All we can do is comply, so we wait to have any tattoos, or body markings burned off. Who knows what will happen tomorrow.
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Postby JillStar » Sun Dec 11, 2005 12:46 pm

This could turn into a novel, if you took it there... this almost felt like the beginning of a first chapter or a prologue to a much larger story (how we fight back and regain our rights to be who we are).

On a personal note... sometimes I feel people want the world to be perfect with everyone equal to everyone else. A nice thought and something I feel when I speak to people... I treat everyone the same. But when it comes down to it... if everyone is exactly the same or on the exact same pedestal, won't we eventually become nothing but robots with no identities?

Thanks for sharing!!
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Postby timberline » Sun Dec 11, 2005 2:44 pm

Here's a 25-minute story about one person who was perfectly normal, except for....

Charlie and the Really Normal Woman

My friend Charlie had a problem. We called him Straight Charlie because he was so plain and unassuming. Yet for one who seemed to float benignly through life, Straight Charlie seemed to have more run-ins with preposterously odd women. There was the peroxide blonde matron who picked him up at Bloomingdales before kicking him out on the ramp to the 59th Street Bridge because he wasn’t the guy in the Capital One credit card commercials. And the one who invited him to her apartment and then confessed she was on her way to Philadelphia for a gender-change.

My girlfriend Donna and I thought he had finally found a normal girlfriend when he met Amelia. She was an artist living on New York’s Lower East Side, which made her marginally normal to our way of thinking. Strongly in her favor, Amelia was a very good-looking English woman about 25 or so and spoke in complete sentences. Often an entire paragraph would come out of her mouth.

We had drinks together once or twice uptown, and got together for meals at our place or hers a few times. Finally, we thought, Charlie had come up with three stars on the slot machine of love and found a really normal woman.

He called me at work one day and asked if I was free for lunch. My uptown job was going downhill, so I blew off an assignment and headed over to Joyce’s pub on Third Avenue for some beers and burgers.

“Funny thing,” Charlie said when the second round came. “Amelia is normal in every way except she never makes love with the lights on. When she begins to get undressed I’m in the dark, literally.”

I suggested she had some disfiguring birthmark, perhaps a mole in the shape of Texas on her shoulder. “It could also be that she lacks some sort of natural endowment. Does she wear a padded bra?”

“She feels normal, and I wouldn’t feel a birthmark, would I? No, it’s something else.”

Poor Charlie was becoming frantically desperate as he saw their future relationship fragment over Amelia’s Victorian mannerism.

I mentioned our conversation when I got home and sat down to dinner with Donna. “Is that normal not to have the lights on, at least sometimes?”

“Well, men are funny about that. Not ha-ha funny, but weird,” she said. “Women are more romantic—but I’ll talk to her.”

A day later I reminded her about Charlie’s problem.

“Oh, right,” Donna said, plumping herself down in the upholstered chair we’d found on Second Avenue. “She really likes Charlie, you know. She’s serious about him.”

“Yes, but what about the bit with the lights going out at showtime?”

“Yes, that’s kind of awkward. She was going with an Irish guy when she was going to college in Dublin for awhile. They were ready to get married, in fact.”

“Is that a problem? I still don’t understand.”

“I do, and Charlie will tonight, if she breaks down and tells him,” she said. “Amelia has a secret. A tattoo. It’s on her butt, and says, LOVE FOREVER, CARL. She told me she’s embarrassed to show him.”

I sat up and took a hit of my beer. “You’re saying it was a souvenir and normal English girls don’t get tattooed? This is a good reason why the United Nations should outlaw tattoos. Look what it’s doing to Charlie and Amelia.”

Donna nodded. “She showed me. It’s really, really prominent. Not good art at all.”

“Can they do a little skin graft? I mean, that’ll take an awful lot of Cover Girl makeup if they go to a nudist colony.”

“You haven’t seen her butt—and I hope you never do!—but I gave her a better idea. I think she’s telling Charlie right now. The tattoo is a sans serif typeface, and there’s wide letter spacing. I think we can redesign it so the CARL can be re-tattooed to read CHARLIE.”

“Maybe he’ll buy the idea. It’s the only way to keep their love together, since no man wants to pat another man’s tattoo.”

“But I’m still worried. A little bit.”

“Charlie’s understanding about things,” I said. “She’s the first normal girl he’s met in New York.”

“But as a good Protestant from a small town upstate, what’ll he do about the tattoo on her shoulder that says Up the IRA?”
 Cruising the Green of Second Avenue is available at Barnes & Noble and other online book sellers. More good stuff at http://allotropiclucubrations.blogspot.com
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Postby crazinasian » Tue Feb 28, 2006 4:59 pm

hey gramps,
I liked that story it was funny, i noticed that you always go to a bar on third avenue in alot of your stories and i was wondering if that used to be your old hangout.
~If you can not explane it simply, then you do not know it well enough~

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