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flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in

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flerp
Feb 25, 2014


1443 words

Last Records of the Genesis Artificial Intelligence Program

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flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 22:51

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in give me a song

seb is an idiot

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


sandnavyguy posted:

Thanks for the crit Apop!

Yeah, I definitely like making my villains more fleshed out I guess. I tried mixing Some of the Djinn-type "Whatever you wish for in worst possible way" with demonized Irish Brownies.

e: I'm also going to try a rewrite sometime using that suggestion about flipping perspective, that could be pretty cool, thanks!


yeah same

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


crits for uranium phoenix, big scary monsters, aesclepia, beefsupreme, jay w friks, yoruichi

https://docs.google.com/document/d/...dit?usp=sharing

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


cantdecideonabrawlname

prompt: cyberpunk indecision

1069 words

due 1/26/18 11:59pm pst

canty toxx for me

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


derp posted:

SOMEBODY FIGHT ME

IM READY(butidontlikethisweeksprompt)

ur name sucks

fight me

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


1148 words

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSuCWq0ruuk

Three Days

archives

flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:06

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


spectres of autism posted:

fresh from my psych ward room where people prolly think im talking to myself, here is recording of the winner of last week (i think, didn't check too hard), twittering machines by flerp. partly to test my laptops recording software (its bad).

short and sweet which helps.

if anyone can guide me to more td experimentalism in the same vein, id appreciate it

im trying

thanks

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


Crain posted:

Well that's a good crit, thanks Obliterati.

wow this is a good post i hope you didnt write anything after this sentence or that would ruin this post!

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


Exmond posted:

Less shitposting more crit posting?

i agree, people should stop posting like poo poo

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


This is a holy place

archives

flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:06

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


derp brawl

651 words

Guardian Angel

Dove landed on Chris’s father gravestone. Chris gripped the white lillies in his hand tightly. Chris showed up to Dove’s graveyard every day for the past week, so Dove was going to do what Dove did best. Help people move on.

Chris’s eyes were squeezed shut. Dove had seen it enough times to know he was trying to stop himself from crying.

“Coo,” Dove said. Chris looked up with bloodshot eyes. Dove had seen it all whenever he helped people. They always stared. Then they smiled, or maybe laughed. Some even broke into tears, right there. The particularly religious might even ask, “Dad?”

Instead, Chris shouted, “gently caress off,” and swiped his hand at Dove. Dove leaped off of the gravestone, cooing as loud as he could. He landed on the oak tree where he first saw Chris.

Dove followed Chris as he left the graveyard and went to his car.

Dove landed on top of Chris’s car and cooed his best possible coo. Chris stared at the bird and sighed. “Just, gently caress off forever,” he said, opening the door and getting in. Dove jumped onto the hood of the car and stared at Chris. Chris flipped Dove off, put the key into the engine, and drove off.

Dove leapt into the air and watched the car race past the church and down the road. Fine, Dove thought. A little harder than usual.

##

Dove followed Chris back to his house. He landed on the leafless willow tree outside Chris’s bedroom. He watched Chris throw his jacket on top of the bed and collapse onto the blankets. Chris’s body looked thin like a piece of paper. He shuddered, and Dove decided now was the time.

Dove flew over to the window and pecked. Chris looked up from his hands and sighed. Dove kept pecking and cooed. Chris went over and slammed his hand against the window. Dove jumped up, but then landed back in the same spot.

“What the hell do you want?” Chris asked.

Dove cooed. To help you, he thought. No matter what. You’re getting the help.

“You hungry or something?”

Dove cooed back. He wasn’t hungry, really, but he let Chris think whatever he wanted. All he wanted was for him to feel better. It was what all doves are supposed to do.

Chris threw the blanket over his head, but Dove didn’t stop cooing. Eventually, Chris left the room. Dove kept cooing, as loud as he possibly could.

Chris came back into the room, his hands clutching something. He came by the windowsill and dropped some sunflower seeds on the ledge.

“It’s all I got buddy.”

Dove cooed and started eating them. Chris sat there for a while, watching Dove eat.

“You’re a weird bird,” Chris said.

When Dove was finished, Chris stared for a while.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I see you at the graveyard all the time. It’s like you're always staring at me. And God, do you never shut up.”

Chris smiled to himself, then stared down at the rug.

“It’s kind of nice, actually. Like I’m not alone there.”

That was the plan,” Dove thought.

Chris laughed. “Talking to a loving bird.” He put out the last of the sunflower feed on the windowsill.

“Anyways, night bird,” Chris said and closed the window. Dove watched him fall asleep until, he too, fell asleep.

##

Dove landed on Chris’s father gravestone. Chris looked up, and smiled at Dove. His eyes were a lighter red. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out some bird seeds.

“Stopped by the store on the way here. Said this is what birds like.”

He reached out his open palm and Dove ate the seeds.

“Thanks,” Chris whispered and Dove looked up at him and cooed.

It’s what I do, Dove thought.

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


cyberpunk brawl results

sebmojo wrote a story where characters who felt like they had history interacted, came at a head, and then tried to kill each other, while having just the right mix of irrelevant cyberpunk poo poo and relevant cyberpunk poo poo. felt like generic cyberpunk, sure, but it at least it did something kind of interesting. cantdecideonaname wrote a story about two people talking about a thing that they will do later, and then it ends before they actually do anything interesting.

so yeah sebmojo wins. maybe ill do bigger crits later but im gonna go play dbz instead.

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


sebmojo posted:

Oh yeah and flerp, you simpering dweeb, put your goddam wordfists up. I feel like having a brawl that you don't judge, for once.

based off of all the brawls of urs i had to read, this'll b a p easy win

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


the pirate who fell in love with vice versa

there once was a pirate in love with vice versa. and he was like "wow i love you vice versa" which wasnt like a person's name or anything but the literal phrase vice versa.

and vice versa said nothing because it's just a phrase, but that's what the pirate loved about vice versa.

and so they went sailing through the ocean and sometimes people would go into the pirate's room and he'd be making out with the empty air and everyone thought the pirate who was in love with vice versa was a creepy weirdo.

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in with swing life away by rise against

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


Sitting Here posted:

flerp i'm gonna need someone to vouch for your brawl real quick or your rear end is grass. Mojo was confirmed via irc

ask muffin or jay friks or seafood, i showed all of 'em it during dnd yesterday

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


sebmojo (more like suckmojo lol) brawl

DRAFT VERSION

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flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:07

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


sebmojo posted:

gently caress youuuuuuu

wow its almost like drafts have mistakes in them

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


Crain posted:

I blinked and missed something...what the gently caress is all of this?

idk maybe if you read instead of posting inane white noise youd understand

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


sebmojo posted:

I'm number one in failures and that's waht counts

e:

dammit

26 Failures Djeser
25 Failures sebmojo
23 Failures newtestleper
21 Failures magnificent7
21 Failures Phobia
20 Failures QuoProQuid
19 Failures flerp

if you count my old username, im actually in the lead there

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in give me a saint

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


973 words

Words Only Go So Far

archives

flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:07

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


Week 294 crits

feedmyleg

Now im not really the kind of person to say “hey dont write about cloaca surgery because thats really dumb and stupid” but i mean, i will say it tho

Dont write about cloaca surgery because thats really dumb and stupid

ANYWAYS now that is through, this story is actually not that interesting. Like i mean it’s a stupid rich person deciding to do a stupid thing and then he does it. And thats most of the story. Its not written terribly (maybe a bit overwrought with some of the word choices), and im kind of glad you decided to take the tone at least somewhat seriously rather than just being LOL WACKY CLOACA SURGERY. But like, your character is a bore and for 2k words like, barely anything happens. None of the characters are likable, or really interesting. All of them are stereotypes that never seem to break free of the mold to become actual characters/

Is this publishable? Absolutely not. Even if we take away the subject matter, the story is ultimately boring and uninteresting. Rich dumb dude does rich dumb thing and learns nothing and gains nothing. Maybe if you used the cloaca surgery as some kind of way for the character to grow or show some kind of commentary about society or people or anything besides the played out cliche of “lol rich people dumb” then maybe this story can go somewhere. But right now, not a chance.

5/10

Ironic Twist

I mean, i hate to beat a dead horse and all that, but this feels like a Twist story. The writing is good and vivid but i cant really understand anything that is happening. I think the problem is that there are a lot of concepts swirling around in this tiny sphere of a story. There’s the mother and father, how sounds work, how space works, among a hundred other things, and they kind of all just keep going but none of them are given any room to breathe. I think the basic narrative is there is a robot-like thing on some planet and then there’s some other thing there that is building a face or like another robot and thats a bad thing because it’s bad. But like the inner workings of all of this dont really make sense to me.

I feel like i want this story to play with less ideas but make them more meaningful and clear, or go a lot larger and spend more times on making all the ideas fit together without confusing.

Oh yeah and that first sentence is garden pathed as gently caress

Is this publishable? I see the potential in it. The writing quality is good and interesting and some of the actual themes are neat. But my frustration with being unable to understand what is even going on turns me off. At this stage, maybe not, but with improvements in clarity, yeah, it could get it.

6/10

Benny Profane

Jesus what is w/ garden pathed opening sentences

This is pretty boring, overall. I mean it’s just mostly worldbuilding of the pretty common trope of “post-apocalyptic society walls itself off from the rest of society.” The intro scene is actually okay, but it doesnt exactly inspire. After that, it’s just worldbuilding thinly veiled as dialogue. I mean it’s not a bad bit of worldbuilding, in that it isnt excruciatingly dull (but still dull), but it has the all the problems a story that spends all of its time explaining the world rather than actually showing the world. There isnt much reason to care and characters dont really evolve or deal with any issues that come from their world.

Is this publishable? Right now, no. Maybe if you did something with the world it could reach that point, but that’d be a pretty big overhaul and expansion.

4/10

areyoucontagious

This is a decent idea but it lacks impact because we’re mostly told why the kids matter rather than actually showing us. The prose itself is fine, and I can see this working if we actually had more of an emotional connection to what is occurring. The problem with this story is that we lack the key moments that show Gloria’s change from “im just doing my job” to “theyre my kids.” it just happens and we’re told it happens and we have to take it at face value, which is boring.

Is this publishable? Not right now, but if time is spent on characterizing Gloria and showing her transition, then this does have potential, but it needs a lot more work.

5/10

SurreptitiousMuffin

This is definitely the best written story from a prose standpoint, but I found that it didnt quite come together for me. I was actually about it at the beginning, but the pull away from the father and son dynamic into something larger was kind of frustrating to me, but that’s a personal gripe because i like the personal rather than the universal. I feel like the two -- of the kid watching his father die and then the larger concepts about earth and space -- dont quite come together at the end. I feel like I want more from the two “characters” here. They feel like window dressing when they can be used to put more personal into the larger themes youre working with.

I have some gripes with the formatting, which is that i dont really know why it needs to be formatted the way it is. It seems like it would work just as fine written in a standard format and the changes to it are mostly distracting and dont seem to actually enhance the meaning of the piece, imo.

Is this publishable? I think we need a few tweeks here and there, yeah. I’m not 100% sure if the formatting is publishable, because i think the piece doesnt really justify the formatting, however. And it depends on how traditional/nontraditional the market wants to be.

7/10

cptn_dr

This is a waste of time and it is why it lost. I mean, when you think about the pantheon of td losers, this isnt terrible. There’s a few typos here and there, and like, it’s not written terribly. But the problem is that this is a 1.7k word long story that is essentially “guy goes on a space station and talks to another guy.” Like, I was hoping for something, but like, nothing happens. You start out at least somewhat promising, by having there be a crisis of some sorts at the beginning. But then it just deflates because oh it’s not actually dangerous at all. And then the ending is just so… What? Why would you end on a joke? What were you even trying to do with this story? Like, i dont get it.

Is this publishable? Not even close. This would require a complete restructuring and overhaul to turn into a story that is at least somewhat interesting.

2/10

Thranguy

Idk, this kind of has some of the same problems I have with a lot of sci-fi and that it uses dialogue to explain everything about its world and what not. It’s at least not the worst offender about this, but I felt like I was wanting more from this piece. It’s a good conversation and it does keep the interest, but I found myself wanting to see the world more clearly rather than being told about it. I had some confusion following the actual world. As in, an alien comes in and the guy decides to either shoot them or not, but it’s not really clear why the alien agrees to this, why the guy gets to decide to shoot them or not, why he shouldnt shoot them or not, or what the consequences are of shooting or not shooting.

Anyways, I have this strange feeling about the main character, in that I feel like you tried really hard to give him a character, but he never seems to break out to me. He feels nameless and faceless. His backstory is pretty generic, and his inner thoughts feel a little too generic “action-movie badass” for me to really feel like he’s a human with human emotions.

it's still quite an alright story with some interesting things to say but i dont think it presents them in the most interesting ways

Is this publishable? It’s neat, but idk, I don’t know if this quite gets past the whole “two people talk in a room about sci-fi stuff” even if it’s maybe a better version of that genre.

7/10

Yoruichi

The opening was a little over the top, especially when you had the character think “idiot.” This has this strange quality to it that is kind of hard to describe, but it’s a story where I feel like the author is trying less at telling a story they want to tell and more focused on just telling a decent story. Which, this is. It sets up some characters and relationships and possible conflicts, foreshadows a little bit, ramps up the tension, and ends decently. The problem is that the story never pulls really past that. A lot the things happening feel pretty cliche (i mean, omg two people like each other but wont say it! And then at the end right before they die she confesses! whoa!!!!!). So like, it’s okay, but it doesn’t really engage on a level outside of “hmmmm yeah i guess it was decent.”

Is this publishable? No, quite frankly. It just doesn’t do anything interesting enough.

6/10

ThirdEmperor

I like this story, actually, but I also feel like the bits of this story I actually like are hidden away with a bunch of other crap. For one thing, there’s way too many relationships going on. There’s a lot of names and what not. But what I really like, and this is just a personal thing with sci-fi, is when individuals have to deal with these sci-fi concepts in an actual human way. And I feel like the main character’s dislike of the eternalization compared to the rest of the society is neat (altho it feels like a kind of Brave New World esque socia thing so its weird that the narrator is like the only person who hates it but whatever) and I like how that creates a conflict between her and Rose. A bit of me wants this story to be slashed apart a bit, because for 1.8k words, I felt like a lot of it was fluff and ultimately didnt really enhance what I felt like was the strongest bits, which was Cynthia’s anxiety regarding eternalization and Rose. And, similarly, I would’ve liked to see more development of Cynthia and Rose’s relationship, because it feels pretty barebones right now.

Is this publishable? I wouldn’t say this is the most unique idea, as I’ve seen a lot of different takes on this kind of eternalization, BUT i think the focus on an individual dealing with the consequences of this concept can be really interesting. I think pushing that angle might make it standout among other candidates.

6/10, probably shouldve been a 7/10

Obliterati

I feel like there’s some neat ideas in here, but i couldnt feel bothered. nothing quite in here pulled me in. none of the characters were partically engaging. the main character felt more like a pair of eyes rather than a character. i like the dynamic between the two other characters, and i think the narrator was the most boring perspective. the sci-fi, too, felt pretty tacked on. while the robots were kind of neat and i liked how they werent like deadly or anything, they were just kind of there and didnt enhance the story in really any way. the ending is actually kind of decent but it felt out of place between the character like actually did something when he felt so blank previously.

is this publishable? ehhh, it seems pretty standard sci-fi which makes me think, no. it doesnt really pull itself out of the slush.

6/10

Tyrannosaurus

now this is the kind of stuff i like w/ my sci-fi. it deals with some bigger concepts but instead of waxing on and on about individuality it actually just tells a story with characters dealing with the issues in an actual human way. and, by doing that, it says more than anything else.

but yeah i liked this the most overall. it had a nice tone, although i feel like the beginning got a little too… im lacking the right word, but it felt like it was being a bit too tongue in cheek.

is this publishable? maybe a editing pass or two is always good, but yeah, its good.

8/10

Uranium Phoenix

this got too exposity for me. i like the concepts at play, but they were expressed way too bluntly. like, the robot was like “hey im basically a slave let me have choice” and i felt like it got really hamfisted. it feel into similar traps of this week, which was, let me explain everything thru dialogue, but not in a natural way that shows some kind of understanding, but with no subtly. and thats what i think is missing. some subtly and nuance to this piece because it just says, “let the robot have choices “ which is okay, but feels so simple and i feel like there are more things to play with in this story.

is this publishable? maybe? the setting is kind of neat but its probably a bit too overt.

6/10

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in with starcraft

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


how do you gently caress up giving flash rules lol

in, flash,

(USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in flash rule tia

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


785 words

A Moment

archives

flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:05

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


prompt

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in flash

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


1082 words

flash rule: Nimrud lens

The Legend of Fire

archives

flerp fucked around with this message at Sep 13, 2018 around 23:06

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in give me a song

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in

flerp
Feb 25, 2014


For Jay

478 words

The Legend of Don Quixote de la Mancha

Not so long ago, five unlikely souls saved the world.

There was Terzia, the wizard who always wanted to do what was right, but was also willing to make a few extra coins along the way.

There was Quincy, the charismatic rogue who wouldn’t leave a single dead man’s pocket unpicked.

There was Dave, the bard interested more in dogs and playing the flute than saving the world.

And there was Taps, the monk who just wanted to punch people and drink wine.

Then, of course, there was Don Quixote de la Mancha. Out of all the rest, he was most like the heroes in the storybooks. He was brave, honest, willing to stand for justice. Even when his righteous path would lead him down danger, Don was never afraid. No matter where he went, he had his ideals, his goddess Dulcinea, his trusted steed Rosinate, and, of course, his friends.

Together, they slayed the horrible necromancer Calvino, ridding the world of one corrupt individual. In that fight, though, Don was thought dead, fallen from an airship. The friends grieved for the loss of a great hero, and an even greater friend. However, a more deadly threat loomed above the world, one that threatened to turn the world to glass. The party pressed on without him, to save the world that Don thought was so worth protecting.

It was tough for the four heroes. The loss of Don weighed heavy on their hearts, and they felt unsure if they could truly save the world. They were, after all, just a group of nobodies banded together through a series of coincidences, and completely in over their heads.

And when almost all their hope was lost, they found Don again. They hugged him, and told him how much they missed him. But they couldn’t stop for long.

There was a world to save.

Reunited with Don, the party was whole again. Don was there to slay the forces of evil, heal them, and inspire them. However, his greatest powers was outside of combat. He was able to make everyone around him feel like heroes. Everything to Don was a fight to save the world, a fight to bring peace and justice to a land that was sorely needing it. He was a hero, maybe not the kind of hero you’d imagine, but a hero nonetheless.

And, eventually, Terzia, Quincy, Dave, Taps all became heroes too. They saved the world, and they all went off on their own paths. Don disappeared into the snow, and while the four still see each other from time to time and reminiscence about their grand adventure, they don’t know where Don ended up. However, they’re not worried about their “Grandpa”. Because wherever he might’ve gone, they know he brought honor, justice, and laughter with him.

flerp
Feb 25, 2014




990 words

Stop Worrying

My momma left my world as a fish.

It rained hard the day before she went. She was always worried about everything, scared that the creek would overflow and roll down the street and flood her basement. I tried to tell her not to be worried, but she insisted we should go check and make sure the creek wasn’t gonna overflow.

“Better to know than to not know,” she said, always.

It was still gray as sin when we left. She still had her bathrobe on. She didn’t go to sleep that night, just stared at the window and the rain. The moment the rain stopped, she knocked on my old bedroom door. There were still little hints of pink on the white door, from when she painted over the room after I moved out.

“Come with me,” she said. “Gotta make sure we’re okay.”

“Alright momma,” I said, got changed fast, and walked out into the early morning. The smell of asphalt and rain filled the air and water cascaded like waterfalls into the storm drains. Momma didn’t stop walking, her flip flops squeaking in the cold.

“I’m sure it’s no problem,” I said, trying to keep pace with her.

“They always say that. ‘It ain’t a thing, no need to be worried.’ And next thing ya know, the whole neighborhood’s underwater and you’re trapped with no food.”

“Momma, that ain’t gonna happen,” I said as she turned around the corner.

“Your pa was always like that, too. Came home short of breath every once in a while and he say, ‘don’t worry, it ain’t a thing.’ Then his heart gives out and then what, huh?”

“Momma,” I said.

She didn’t break her stride, but she said, “You’re right. Shouldn’t have brought up your pa.”

She didn’t say anything after that. Just kept moving forward, walking faster than I ever seen her walk.

After however many blocks, we ended up at the creek. It was down a little ditch off the side of the road, hidden behind some bushes. We couldn’t see it, but we could hear the roar of water. She looked back at me, as if she proved her point.

“Momma, it’s nowhere close to your house.”

“Not yet,” she said. Then she stepped through the bushes and down the path. Her flip flops sank into the wet mud, and I followed after her.

The creek was flooded up a few dozen feet from the base, the water overlapping some bushes. Momma stood staring at it, her eyes moving up and down the brown water.

“Sarah,” she said. “Did you check today’s weather?”

“Momma,” I said. “It looks kinda beautiful.”

But Momma didn’t look back at me. She kept her eyes right on the churning waters, her hands balled up in her robe.

“What if it rains today? Or tomorrow?” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“We gotta pack up.”

“Momma, stop worryin’.”

“They always say that,” she said. “And then, like that.” She snaps her fingers for effect. “You can’t do anything about it.”

“Momma, I love ‘ya,” I said. I walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. The house’ll be safe. There ain’t nothing to worry about”

She looked back at me, but she didn’t smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she didn’t.

“Make sure you grab the photos on the dresser. Those are the most important.”

“Momma, ain’t nothing gonna happen.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Your Papa always said that, and I believed him. But now, I just don’t know.” She looked up at the gray sky, opened her mouth like she was tasting the air for more rain to come. “He’d probably say what you’re saying right now. And I’d believe him.”

“Momma,” I said.

“But I don’t know anymore.”

And then, like that, she was a fish. And my momma was a Christian lady, and she tried her hardest to make me a Christian lady too. So she always said, “God’ll reap what you sow.” And so He didn’t turn her into one of those pretty clown fish, or even a trout. Nah, she was a catfish with big ol’ whiskers, and she sank into the creek and swam downstream.

I didn’t know what to do. Momma just up and went, and I was standing with my shoes sinking in mud. So, I did all I could. I went back to her home, told the police Momma went missing, and then grabbed the photos on the dresser. They were all of Papa. Some in black and white, with my grandma and grandpa. I couldn’t recognize his young face, the way his eyes seemed so bright even without color. There were others, of when he was older. His big gut, his grey bread I never remember being black in person. I couldn’t help but stare at where his heart would be at, at the little organ that would day putter out and stop.

I wondered what part in Momma made her a fish.

Maybe, this is what she always wanted. Maybe she kneeled at the foot of her bed every day after Papa was gone, asking for God to make her a fish. Or maybe, she just wanted to swim away from the house. I don’t know. I can’t ask Momma anything anymore.

I don’t know where Momma went. Probably in the bottom of the lake twenty or so miles downstream, with all the other fish. I just hope she ain’t worried about the house, or the photos, or me, anymore. I took ‘em with me on the flight home, and they’re on the nightstand next to my bed. I put some up of Momma too, right next to Papa. They’re both smiling whenever I look at them.

And every now and then, I check Google Maps, just to make sure her house didn’t get flooded over.

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flerp
Feb 25, 2014


in flash

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