Monthly Archives: November 2017

Flash Fiction Friday…

Since I have a welter of writings scattered here and there I thought I’d start a series, culling various pieces from piles of papers. There is no set word count here; it could be from 100-1,000. I believe this simple exercise will allow me to free up the writer’s block that sometimes plagues me. (Especially now, since I am engaged in NANOWRIMO.)

Anyway, here is my first post of flash fiction, fashioned from my own prompt. It just came to me out of the blue one night, right before bed.

Thank you for stopping by.

The Cornfield

Effie was barefoot and giggling as she sprinted ahead of me, down the dusty dirt trail, wearing her usual summer clothes, frayed cutoff jeans and a billowing white shirt tied at the belly, her long curly auburn hair flowing over her shoulders, running just ahead of me past the bend, and me only knowing you left the trail by the broken stalk to my left, sticking out of place, as though the unity and wholeness of the cornfield was somehow breached, now broken.

I stopped at the break and, in the distance, I heard your laughter. I plunged into the fragrant stalks, breaking my own fair share, laughing to myself as I sought you through the dense vivid green foliage, the tasseled ripening corn tickling my arms as I raced forward, searching for that unseen mirth. I ran, wondering how you could be so far ahead, marveling at your grace, your speed, your ebullience, your loveliness. Yes, we were only 14. Well, you were; I was 12. But I knew, deep down, that I felt something toward you, something inexplicable, something warm and comfortable and pleasing.

And you were out there, somewhere, laughing in the wind, nothing but vast fields of brilliant blue spread out above, us running and slapping at lush green stalks as we raced through the field, me winded and excited and wishing to just gather you in my arms, to hold you, breathe you in, to fall amongst the shattered verdant limbs and let the full sun embrace our youthful giggling madness.

word count: 257


Copyright, Paul Grignon – 2017 All Rights Reserved.