Flash Club January Flash Club 2021

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Barbara

Barbara

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Nov 10, 2017
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Cambridgeshire
Happy New Year.

The January Flash Club is now open.

To participate, use the writing prompt as well as the word limit given to write a piece of flash fiction, then post below to make your entry. Please make your entry anonymous by clicking the anonymous button, but if you forget, don't worry, that's okay too. (Note: Guardians can see who posts.) So take a risk and try something new.

To make the Flash Club the special place it is, we need your votes. You can vote by clicking 'like' or 'love'. If a piece grabs you, please hit the 'like' button. If a piece sweeps you off your seat, please hit 'love'. At the end of the month, I will count up the votes. In a tie, 'Love' will trump 'like'. The entry with the most votes will be the winner. Please don't vote for your own. The Flash Club isn't about about winning. It's about trying something new. It's about grabbing readers with words, and gaging the response. Self-votes don't show if the writing works for the reader.

The most generous voter will get a mention. At the end of the month I will announce the most supportive Flash Voter who will get a special shout-out. The prize? Kudos. And please don't just hit every entry to ensure a win. That's not helping the author. The voting is designed to help writers gage the effects of their work.

And please keep to the word count. Writing to a specific brief is good practice. I'll be strict be strict
:face-with-monocle:
when it comes to word count. Those entries which go over the set limit won't be in the running for the top spot. They will be left up, but they can't win. You don't have to use up the full limit. If you want to say something in only 10 words, that's perfectly fine.

The competition is open to all members. Feel free to enter more than one. The main rule here: we ask you not to critique.

This month's wordcount is: 200

Here is this your prompt:


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Have fun.
 
The Dog's Bol**cks

I don’t believe it. She’s gone to sleep. So would anyone tell what am I supposed to do now, I mean standing here like this? Like a spare part.

If I move she’ll waken up, the sun will get in her eyes and I guess there’ll be none of those treats for me. Just a bowl of that horrible stuff she puts out every morning. Yuk! I wouldn’t feed that to a dog… hang on… yeah, well you know what I mean.

She was watching a show about the rich and famous living in Monaco yesterday. The way they treat their pets is amazing. Fresh fish, special doggy dishes, some even have personal pet chefs. Mental. Top people don’t expect us to double as sunshades.

Thing is, there’s something odd going on here. Most people who want to sunbathe go to the seaside, don’t they? One of those Costas like Benidorm or Rimini, but not my owner. Oh no, she goes to the snow. Genius. Not.

It’s all very well for her wrapped up in all that gear, but I bet she never once thinks about me having to trail my crown jewels through bloody snow drifts all day.
 
A Dog's Body

'I am going to kill you in your sleep. And then I'm going to use you as a sled. And I'm going to whoosh down the hill, shouting woofee. And then I'm going to shove you on the lift and go back to the top. And I'm going to do it all again until I'm bored. And then I'll let other dogs have a go. See how you like that, human .... You shouldn't have crossed a poodle with a husky. Soon, you'll be a dog's body; a sled to the puppies.'

And then Steven King woke up, got off the deckchair, cut his skiing holiday short, and wrote yet another best selling novel about a dog ...
 
Doggy Dilemma



Is she dead yet?

Should have sounded the alarm ages ago but sod her.

Keeping me out all night in the freezing cold while she drinks Vodka shows she never really cared about me.

Wasn't my fault hubby went off with the sexy girl from the flower shop, was it?

She's got me on a really short lead too. Can't even run around in circles to keep warm.

Might have to bite her hand off.

Won't look good in the papers though. Superstar mutilated by her dog and left to die. I'll never snag another owner with press like that.

We are supposed to refuse to leave them when they get into trouble or at least go for help - like bloody Rin Tin Tin. Has he got a lot to answer for! And as for effing Lassie. What a do-gooder she was. It's alright for Alsatians and Collies but I'm only small.

What to do?

I'll give her another ten minutes, maybe twenty.

Decisions, decisions. It's a dog’s life, I tell you.
 
Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof. (Editor's note: This is the title).

‘Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof.’

‘Quit your yapping. What are you? A poet or a writer now?’

‘Woof!’
 
NON REFUNDABLE
You know Kevin, it might not be ideal, but it could have been worse; like Siberia instead of Scotland! I understand how shitty you feel! You could have been at that fancy kennel where they give you freeze dried liver treats all day long and you get to hang with all those other dogs. Christ, I know you love it there!
I'm glad I didn't kill him right there and then or I'd be in jail and you'd be at the pound. Stupid bastard! How do you mix up January with July and how do you miss the fact that it's not a free cancellation! Stupid bastard! Well we've seen the last of him anyway! They should be finding his body at the bottom of this ravine anytime now. It's funny I told him to make sure he brought his good snow boots. But he insisted on his trendy long toed leathers. And you know, at the end of the day, there is that lovely insurance policy. I think I'll buy us both a new winter coat with the money and then I'll book a fully refundable trip to Bali, dog friendly place of course!
 
"I thought I was very clear with you Alfred at the beginning of this holiday." Debra sighed heavily. She was unsure how many times she would have to explain to Alfred that he was not to act out when she flirted with other men.

"Will the owner of the wee Jack Russel who is stealing food from outside diners please come to the front desk IMMEDIATELY!!!" A demanding young woman with a thick Scottish accent had clipped over the loudspeaker, just when she was getting somewhere with the handsome young Austrian she had been following around all day.

Debra's face had turned as bright as her red coat that she had brazenly unzipped to show off the curves of her ample bosom under the puffiness that contained her. She hurriedly excused herself and wrangled her dog of 8 years away from the diners, knowing everyone was watching her.
"You can't keep doing this Alfred, I will always love you. It's just that I need more than you and me." She pleaded as Alfred continued to glare at the young Austrian behind her. Ignoring the sensation in her stomach that told her she was lying as Alfred starting to growl.
 
THE BET

​
I stand on her lap, stare into her eyes.

I pad closer, press my muzzle against her chest, look at her chin, pleading, “Don’t make me do it. I’ll be a laughing stock in both terrier and husky worlds. You’ll be a laughing stock in your two-legged world.”

Slowly, she rises, and I have to jump off. I consider fleeing and hiding, but she pulls my favourite liver snacks out of her pocket.

Foiled again! She has me by the collar. The bet is on.

It’s a strange thing, this contraption on skis.

“He must run with the huskies,” they said.

“He will,” she answered.

She leads me onto the platform, harnesses me in place, and here I am: on my ski-ride, a harnessed husky beside me, two in front, two behind.

There’s a box in her hand.

“Mush!” someone shouts.

She presses a button; my platform moves; I walk, faster, faster. Now I’m running. With the huskies. As fast as the huskies.

We’ve won the bet! I’m a sled-dog! Wow! Thank-you, mother two-legs.

I have to squint or snow’s in my eyes, but this is much more fun than a deck-chair. I’m a sled-dog! Yihee!
 
I stand, the sun burning through my coat with the strange cold heat of the mountains. Amelia using me as a sunscreen is fine, she is a good footwarmer. Over there, though, over there is the evil twisted fiend, and that is not fine.

I had not expected him to follow me, not here. He’s planning something, I can see it in his black malevolent eyes. I have to warn Amelia, I have to make her understand that she is in terrible danger, but if I move too soon all will be lost.

I look around, fearing so much as a twitch of my tail. I don’t think it's spotted me yet. If I let it get just a little closer, I’ll be able to scream out my warning. I’ve tried before but failed. Either I moved too soon, or the evil one moved too fast. No, the timing has to be perfect. Just move a little closer, Fiend of Fiends, just a few steps more...

The tension is unbearable. Only a few paces away. I nervously lick my lips, legs as taut as a bowstring pulled to its furthest point, ready for the explosive release, nearly…nearly……



“SQUIRRAL!!!!!”
 
Little Dog

They tell me to take little dog for walk. They say it is better that I am away from the slopes. They laugh at me behind my back, I hear them. They call me Martina shit-ski. They call me world’s worst ski instructor. When I tell to them I have qualifications, I have skied all my life, ever since I was little baby, they laugh at me. They say I come from lake, not from mountains. They say I ski like confused bat, constipated squirrel. They say I will be sent home at end of season, that I will never ski on these mountains again. They say they will set up a perimeter, a border control with my picture in the booths. They say I am not allowed to ski, me who skied with her father on these mountains before those who mock were even born.

I sit here for a minute, with their little dog. It licks my face. We bond. I tickle its ear, I pretend to sleep. I need it to trust me.

And when it does, I will throw it off the mountain. And then they won’t laugh at me no more.
 
Don’t you dare take me for a walk

Do not move. I’m serious. Don’t you dare!

How could you bring me here? I thought we were best friends? The boxy cave we were in was warm… warm! In one corner, a big black spot had jumped and flicked. When I slept in front of it, pure bliss warmed my fur. Unlike this sorry excuse of a second coat, which you forced me into.

Out here, my paws burn, not from the heat, but from the woofing cold.

If you get up, if you push me onto that howling white stuff, if my paws get wet.

Well, I’m just going to piss all over you.
 
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