Saturday, April 21, 2012

Clipboard of Destiny

The following scribble is 349 of 350 allowed words for Yearning for Wonderland's Once Upon A Time flash fiction contest. "Unexpected Fairy Tales" is the theme for the contest, but beyond that, there aren't many criteria. (My draft was well over 1,200 words!)

I deposit my silent screams in the basement file room. Few of my coworkers have the key, and fewer want to visit the rank, dismal bowels of the old newspaper building. Most importantly, Judy never goes there. Last Friday, I sat in my usual spot by the 1994 tax information. I inhaled deeply, opened my mouth wide, wrinkled my nose, and squeezed my eyes shut. As I quietly exhaled, releasing thirty-six hours of frustration, I heard sniffling. Alarmed, I skulked past rows of moldy boxes toward the sound. A tiny woman slumped on a step stool near the 1983 personnel files. Her orthopedic shoes barely touched the floor. Glaring at me from behind enormous purple-rimmed glasses, she dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief. “It’s a good day for this room,” she said.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was down here,” I mumbled.

“I’m retiring today,” she said, slipping the hankie into her pocket. When I could see her whole face, I estimated she had seen the advent of moveable type. “Not by choice. But they can soak their heads. I have books to read. Cats to feed. Magic to make.” She snorted.

“They say you’re busier after retirement than before,” I offered, making a noise like a little laugh.

“Here,” she stood, scarcely taller than when she sat. A wing-shaped rhinestone comb held her gunmetal updo in place. She pulled a silver glitter-encrusted clipboard out of her coat and shoved it at me. It was heavy. “This will help,” she sighed, ambling away. I skimmed the parchment clipped to the board and immediately understood. I smoothed my hair and made my way back upstairs. At my desk, I studied the form. Everyone in the office was listed on the left. On the right side, a hundred phrases were each accompanied by a blank box. I circled “Judy” on the left side. My pen lingered over “vacation,” on the right side, but then I saw the best choice. “Colon polyps.” My checkmark was bold and dark. I clasped the clipboard to the ink stain on my shirt and grinned.

14 comments:

  1. Where can I get me one of those clipboards? I don't care how much they cost.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hee hee--you have to find your fairy godmother, I guess... I'm always on the lookout for mine. ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I really liked your story and for some reason saw it in my mind as a high caliber animation. Wonderful detail on the descriptions and loved the basement setting. Look forward to reading more of your work :))

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks so much, Jo-Anne! Ooh, I would love to see something I wrote turned into an animation, and I do think this story would be especially fun. I appreciate your kind words!

      Delete
  4. Oooh! Atmospheric and evil, loved it! Thanks for entering :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks so much for reading and commenting! Atmospheric and Evil would be fantastic names for a pair of cats... ;-)

      Delete
  5. Hee! Colon polyps! How kind! This was wonderfully creepy. I loved your use of detail and description: the "enormous purple-rimmed glasses," "I estimated she had seen the advent of moveable type," the "wing-shaped rhinestone comb " and the "gunmetal updo." They bring the story to life, and it's the kind of detail that a lot of flash-fiction writers omit in their efforts to lower the word count--a mistake, I believe. This was great--thank you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Kern! Your lovely comment has made me blush. :-)

      Delete
  6. Ooooooh my! This was brilliant. Poor Judy....well, maybe not so much. Depends on what she does that causes all these "silent screams" in the basement room.

    Well done!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for reading and commenting, Angela! Yeah, Judy will be a mite uncomfortable for a while. She probably had it coming, though. ;-)

      Delete
  7. This feels like a complete story and yet there is so much more to it. I too love the little details that jump out, the silent screams, the excellent descriptions, and your characters voice. It feels as if I've read more than 350. Bravo. =D

    ReplyDelete
  8. Brilliant writing - I could see it all playing out in my head - and I have worked in that basement.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Thanks so much for the kind comments, and thank you for taking time to stop by my little blog! I'm trying to choose a FF prompt for my next blog entry, and I would love for everyone to come back to read it later this week!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Wonderful story! Made me giggle a bit at the "colon polyps." :)

    ReplyDelete