Recently I entered a new NYC Midnight writing contest. This one I find quite hard – the 100 word microfiction challenge. I got my assignment, and I banged off my tiny story and sent it off into the great Void, and then I forgot all about it. So the other day I got an email with results of Round 1, and to my very great amazement I came in 4th (out of 50) in my group. A couple days later I got sent a new assignment for the second round, which I just completed last night. Because they ask you not to publish your story until they have had first crack at it, I never put my first story on here, but I will now. I remember the genre was Thriller/Horror (which my story barely qualifies for, in my opinion), and the action was hiding money. I can’t remember the specific word I had to use, but it was something commonplace like “without.” If you have 30 seconds to spare you can read this little 4th place story of mine.
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Brick by Brick
The thugs were thorough. They had ripped open walls, dug up the yard, and even torn down his newly-constructed brick barbecue, all without finding the missing money.
“Are you satisfied?” Julius peevishly asked the mobsters.
“Yeah, looks like you might be telling the truth, but five million dollars doesn’t just vanish. If we ever find it was you, YOU will be the mess.”
When the thugs had left, Julius surveyed the destruction. He picked up a hammer and smashed a random barbecue brick. Inside the masonry was a plastic bag with $1000 in it. Might as well go to dinner.
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The feedback I got was terrific. They mostly liked the story, but they said I should have cut out the word “had,” which I used twice. Without that word the story unfolds in sequence as you read it, not as a past event. I’ll try to use that advice going forward.
The next story is Historical Fiction, with the action being shoving someone and the word “establish.” I was quite pleased with the Round 2 story, but that might be the kiss of death. When I was in high school I realized I was really bad at guessing how I did on tests. There were some tests I aced but thought I failed and vice versa. We shall see. I’ll post it when the coast is clear.
Today is Father’s Day. I went out golfing and then to lunch with my father and uncle. I saw my son and three of my grandkids, and got a text from another kid, so I got my pat on the head for this year. My dad and uncle are getting old and frail. They both had great long runs of good health and mental well being, but it becomes sad on days like this, as my preference would be to have all the kids, grandkids, father, uncle, brother in law together somewhere for a gathering. My brother in law had his knees (yes, plural) replaced, so he isn’t getting around quickly either. We are becoming scattered and downwardly mobile, and frankly it stinks. My poor bro in law is so immobile my sister is calling him Brian Wilson for all his lying in bed. He made it to lunch with us, but he is walking with a cane and doing some hobbling. I am pausing to knock on wood as I write this, as this could easily be me or anyone else. All the people mentioned were all strong and active for decades, not a weakling in the lot.
Father’s Day started in 1910 by a woman who was raised, along with five siblings, by a single father. In the UK, USA and Canada it falls on the third Sunday in June. It’s celebrated in 111 countries, and in some it is a national holiday. And around the world it falls on lots of different days of the year, but the biggest group is the third Sunday in June group. Yay us!
My dad was a good father, in my opinion. My sister and I grew up in a beautiful place, and our parents made a happy home for us. We always had enough to eat and went on nice holidays, had great pets, and we knew our connections to our past by knowing our grandparents and quite a few of the great aunts and uncles. We were taught to question things. At most family suppers someone had to run for the encyclopedias to answer something someone was wondering about. I noted once before that we rarely ever said “I love you” to each other, but I don’t believe anyone ever questioned it. I became a father very young, so I think I was kind of a half ass dad most of the time. When my boy was young I worked a lot of low paying jobs, and we bounced around a lot and had pretty boring holidays. Then I got with a mother who had four kids, and I have tried to treat them as my own as much as possible. It is they who have shown me the way to say “I love you” because they say it all the time. My son has three sons and I think he’s a better dad than I ever was. His boys are always the #1 priority and he does a lot of it on his own. I am proud of him, and his boys are turning into very nice young men. Boy do I feel old writing that!