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August Flash Club Contest

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Emily

Full Member
Joined
Jul 26, 2018
Location
Ireland
LitBits
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For August, since July's contest was such a cracker, let's have another go at a short story of up to 50 words.

The first line to be: If only he hadn’t bought the blue one.

(the challenge is to write a short scene with a resolution in no more than 50 words. The 8 words of the prompt are not included in those 50 words).

As always, a like equals a vote, a love equals 2 votes.

The main rules are:
SUBMIT ANONYMOUSLY
and
NO CRITIQUING other people's work :)


Good luck!!
 
If only he hadn't bought the blue one.
So much for trying to impress his new girlfriend and ingratiate himself with her surly, nose-picking son. Now, he was dead to them. Guilty of the ultimate offence.
'United 'til we die!' they'd shrieked, on unwrapping the shirt.
He'd Googled: "Football. Manchester. Most popular team".
Oops.
 
If only he hadn't bought the blue one. He knots his tie and smooths the front of his shirt. Not bad as far as first impressions go. Until he smiles. No matter how many times he's brushed his teeth, they remain a violent shade of blue. Hopefully his date has a sense of humor.
 
If only he hadn't bought the blue one.
In an attempt to redeem his football shirt disaster, he called at her house with chocolates and a DVD.
'I loved this film as a kid,' he gushed. 'Action. Adventure. Funny moments.'
'You pervert!' she shrieked. 'NOT family-friendly.'
He looked closer at the box.
Flesh Gordon.
Oops.
 
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If only he hadn't bought the blue one.
I told him red. Like mine. Or green. Yellow babies stand out.
"We're by the sea, idiot," I said. "So not blue. Please."
But no. He had to go for blue. Now we have turquoise baby dragons, completely camouflaged in the water until the darn things ignite a ship.
 
This is the one @Emily . Please, no wooden spoons. And this is not a title. Just an apology.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If only he hadn’t bought the blue one.

Each night he checked his emails. Nothing.

He’d bought the cake for his son’s 21st. A joke.

His son laughed. “Dad.” Took his hands. “I’ve something to tell you.”

Impossible. He was his baby boy.

When he smashed the cake, his son—daughter—left.

He should’ve bought the pink one.
 
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If only he hadn’t bought the blue one. Yet the new safari hat matched his shirt perfectly.

The tourist walked out of Soekarno-Hatta toward the taxi queue. The scope of a Pindad SPR-4 followed him. He never heard the shot.

Just inside the airport, a lucky spy in a blue shirt and safari hat finished tying his shoe.
 
If only he hadn’t bought the blue one. Homo sapiens evolving. Empathic. He would be their god and make them whole. But he had not expected their ape nature to continue. They could be good, but they were not. They were long-legged apes. Even gods make mistakes and have regrets. He turned away. This was not his world.
 
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If only he hadn’t bought the blue one, things might’ve worked out differently.
But how could he know when buying the Chevy that morning?
A crazed gunman with a thing about blue cars? Just my goddamn luck.
Time slowed to a crawl. He heard the sharp crack as the gun fired. Even saw the windshield shatter.
Blackout.
 
If only he hadn’t bought the blue one.
Last week the red one had me on my back, staring at the night sky in wonder.
Yesterday, the yellow one. Was laughing so hard. Thought my belly was about to spill it’s guts on the pavement.
Today I wept tears so hot my skin peeled from my face.
Ironic.
 
If only he hadn’t bought the blue one. Before, he thought it fitting. Javier's favorite. But now, inappropriate.

Condemning him, the painting of purple splatters bruised the wall. Javier had loved it.

Frayed bits off the rope pricked his palms. In the note: "sorry." Would his family care? Doubtful. It wasn't for them, though.

"Forgive me, my love."
 
If only he hadn’t bought the blue one.
No matter. Yesterday, Tru bought $5000 of art supplies. Today, she propped blue roses in slatted light.
Returning, he gawked at canvases, drop paper, splattered paint, shattered bottle, half-empty bottle in her hand.
“Fuck you,” she spat.
He offered her water.
She hurled the bottle at him. He should’ve ducked.
 
If only he hadn't bought the blue one.
He was offered a choice. Red or blue; scary or familiar.
He could have dissolved boundaries. Merged with source energy. Been at one with everything. Expanded his consciousness.
'You can't grow in a comfort zone," I said, 'so take the red one.'
He played it safe.
I walked away.
 
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