Category: Friday Fiction

by Smitty

I loved you, Earl
Though but a girl
Until that fateful day
When hatred came
With gun of blame
And took your life away

Oh how we dreamed
In innocence
Those nights under the stars
Of shoes and ships
Of global trips
How adventure would be ours

Now years have passed
Since day your last
And again I here take breath
With heart a lump
As tears I dump
Where then you met your death

Lord rest your soul
As on I roll
And may He grant resolve
To emulate
Yours of that date
A life laid down in love

—
via Darleen

by Smitty

Dear Leanna,

I am so sorry.

At the time I had a bunch of reasons for leaving. Maybe some were nearly good. None had to do with you, that I promise.

I still made sure that you were provided for, despite what you may have heard.

I forgave your mother. Even if she could not seem to forgive me before she passed, I hope that you can.

I love you. Let’s make the next 50 years better than the last 5.

Sincerely,

Your Dad
* * *
She looked up from the email app and he stood there, tears streaming, and she completely lost it.
—
via Darleen

by Smitty

We crossed the ridge as the sky brooded and looked down on the Umgeheuer encampment.

This was the hard part. I beamed instructions to my drone rider, and he dismounted, unaware of his pending demise. We’d clone him again.
As sun set, the drone crawled in low to where their noisy power generators throbbed and poured pollutants skyward.
Past the generators was a large fuel bladder. The enemy was cocky about their camp layout.
The explosives in the drone’s stomach took full advantage of this.
* * *
“Excellent work, Xanthippus,” said General Benton, the drone’s DNA source, upon my return to base.
—
via Darleen

by Smitty

The crowd gathered by the mountain lake.
The moons were lining up. The tidal force steadily lowered the water to reveal The Ship.
The hint of the hull began to peek out.
It had been centuries since moons and season provided the correct angle.
Waters receded. The hull emerged, covered in plant growth.
Silence gripped the onlookers.
A mild rumbling, a sound of metal creaking along with soggy plantlife squishing about, as a large door opened on the landward side of the hull.
A dozen suited figures stepped out.
“Whoever touched the cryongenics controls is in Big Trouble,” said Braxton.
—
via Darleen

by Smitty

She knows.
I’ve been gone six years. A random Friday morning seemed good to sneak back into the house at dawn to pick up some documents.
My daughter’s are judge, jury and executioner.
“Hi. *Dad*.”

A three letter wrecking ball. All of my rationalizations, anger, and self-righteousness are suddenly gone.
“Oh my God, Angela. . .I’m so sorry. . .”
Her dirty, smiling rag doll is the last thing I see before the lawn rushes up to kiss me.

* * *

That was 10 years ago.
Getting my life squared away was hard.
Today is her wedding day.
She breaks me again.
Thank you, Lord.
—
via Darleen

by Smitty

“What?”
“I’ll have another Shirley Temple.”
“OK.”
“You the new hire? You’re not laughing at me for skipping alcohol?”
“No. You’re the customer. I don’t drink, either.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Pay’s good, until I get signed. Here’s your drink.”
“What do you play? Here.” Handed him a ten.
“Guitar. Blues. Here’s change.”
“I want to hear you.”
“Park. Tomorrow. Noon. Busking like usual.”
He was. His blues were serviceable.
He was stunned when the bar owner offered him play the evenings gig.
Until she was in the front row and the family resemblance was obvious.
No pressure.

—
via Darleen

by Smitty

Three hour drive. The hike from the parking area, where he left the phone with the jeep (barely one bar, anyway) was five miles, mostly uphill.

The waves of stress rolled off during the trek. He’d return on the morrow for the supplies.

For now, the task was to get to the cabin, crack the place open, and get the heat on.

He’d sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, wake up, eat, move the aforementioned supplies, and then sit down with pen and spiral notebook, completely unplugged from the grid and contemporary distraction, and sink into his opus.
—
via Darleen

by Smitty

I got accused of “hot mom privilege” today by Timmy today.

He’s a year older than me. Last week Billy stayed over and we were up all night playing Halo Wars 2 and mom came down in the basement in her nightgown to tell us to turn the game off and get some sleep and Billy hasn’t shut up about it since.
So Timmy wanted to come over and play Halo and meet mom also but I have to admit I’m a little creeped out by this.
At least Billy has an older sister to crush on.
But come on: moms?
—
via Darleen