Prowler in the Yard Flash Fiction Prompts
Jennifer: The exhibit
sickened him to his very core, depraved acts of sadism frozen in time and
space, on display for all to see. Come
see an extreme art presentation, the flier he had received under his door had
said. Internet reviews he had perused
promised things that no one would imagine, a perspective from an artist with an
eye for the obscure, and the obscene.
This on the other hand, this neither was art nor contained any
comparable qualities to it, his nausea building as his eyes darted amongst the
figures. “This is sickening, this is
pornography of the worst kind,” he complained to no one in particular as he
began to turn away. Out of the corner of
his eye one of the figures in the display detached himself from the machine
that was seen dismantling him piece by piece.
His skin hung in tatters off of the open wounds, but the stark
conviction in his eyes revealed a determination that was disturbing to the
onlookers. “This is art,” he stated
plainly, no sense of derision in his voice.
“This is what I and my companions volunteered to live, and to die for.”
Cheerleader Corpses:
“They’ll be back on their knees in no time,” Kyle joked as he saw two
girls in cheerleader uniforms maneuvering in matching wheelchairs. He had always held contempt for that
particular vein of people, their wanton sexuality and his inability to achieve
sexual relations with any of them creating a conflict of interest in his head
most teens wouldn’t bother to deal with.
A pair of pops rang through the busy shopping mall as an armed gunman
shot the two of them through the head.
Kyle scoffed, they’d never live to meet their depressing adulthood, and
perhaps it was better that way.
Scatology Homework: I
love the color purple, not the movie but the actual color. It’s the color of my room and all of my
favorite clothing. Whenever I visit a
new place I attempt to gain a souvenir of purple to add to my collection. I wrapped a purple scarf around my
boyfriend’s neck. I think I need a new
one, he’s a wonderful shade of blue, but purple is what I really want.
Trojan Whore: I empty
the vessel into my bloodstream to feel the rush once more. The drug hits my bloodstream and reignites my
fire. And yet I feel the unseen soldiers
rush towards my vital organs once again.
It’s difficult to knock the comparison, it’s the horse to my Troy, and
one day it’ll be my undoing.
Ghost of a Bullet:
Angel wings sprouted from my shoulders as I looked on in amazement. Beautiful in design with pure white feathers
and strong musculature underneath there was no doubt I could fly away right
then. No question I’d be able to lift
off and leave this situation behind. I
almost forgot the bullet lodged in my heart, the quick countdown to my death.
Heart and crossbones:
I always liken chlorine and acid together in my mind. Both take dirty things and make them clean
and spotless again. I asked my
girlfriend if she’d like to go swimming.
She got the acid and I got the chlorine.
I can’t wait to see how clean we both are together.
Strangled with a Halo:
Religious practitioners continue on attempting to find some purpose,
some role they can play in the grand design of their particular God. To receive eternal blessings they burn their
life savings on forgiveness. Who could
know their savior is busy elsewhere and not listening. The fish tank has been left behind and the
filter is broken, it’s only a matter of time before we all suffocate in the
dirty water. Keep praying father.
Intimate Slavery: He
had grown up bad, in a terrible neighborhood marred by violence and drugs, and
in a family suffering tragedy on a nearly regular basis. His father had once told him that he would
tell him everything he knew, unfortunately that was exactly the case. 25 to life doesn’t sound as scary when you’re
18 and invincible. Where did he get the
idea to do that to that poor girl?
Mapplethorpe Grey:
Everything in the name of progress.
They don’t feel, they don’t see, they don’t talk, or listen, the
subjects are cattle, they are fodder, and they are nothing. Emotions are unnecessary when all you have is
to eat, sleep, and fuck. Taking the choices away sure limits the
coordination headaches. I just hope they
learn to go fat and complacent… and tasty.
Evacuating Heaven:
The revolution was never going to be televised, it was explained away,
it was nothing. The rolling black outs
came as a surprise to no one. Even in a
world with no light the blind were subservient.
The meek never inherited the earth, they remained unnecessary
bothers.
Tickets to the Car Crash:
The car was going too fast, just the way she liked it. Wind whipping through her golden locks and
blowing her dress askew to reveal just one perfectly shaped shoulder. She expertly guided the vehicle through the numerous
twists and turns, knowing full well who was watching. Her laptop with webcam set up to display the
journey and she the actress of all the viewers dreams. She never saw the 18 wheeler until it was too
late, her perfect body exploding into the firestorm with the rest of the
crash. Ratings skyrocketed, trauma is
sexy.
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