The Sunday Flash Factory 5 to 50/55 challenge prompt words in bold.
A piñata swayed in the gentle breeze. A drunk clasping an empty bottle of vodka tottered through the neighborhood that had lost its jobs and its identity. The factory no longer oozed life, a life layered with people of all ages and races. It wouldn’t have happened if everyone hadn’t forgotten the meaning of compromise.
Neat little tale, Jim. And great prompt words.
ReplyDeleteHere my take...
ReplyDeleteDale didn’t care about concealing his identity. He took another swig of vodka, focused his binoculars on the clown and then the seven-layer cake. The whole neighborhood had turned out for little Eddie’s birthday bash. His father— the wife stealer— blindfolded the boy, handed him a stick. Dale smiled, watched him strike the piñata bomb.
Thanks, Angel. And thanks for posting your take.
ReplyDeleteGreat posts guys.
ReplyDeleteHere's my attempt.
Drunk on vodka, the two men dragged the priest from his neighbourhood church and strung him up Piñata style. Neither man knew the priest’s name. The dog collar was identity enough. Watching his twitches falter they ascended another layer out of their childhood hell. Next on their list? A Bishop!
Good one, Graham.
ReplyDeleteI'm digging it, Graham.... pinata style!
ReplyDelete