This is a Five Sentence Fiction piece I am linking to Lillie McFerrin’s blog. The goal is to pack as much punch in five sentences as you can. The word prompt this week is: Forgotten
Lying in front of the refrigerator across the street from Poggensee’s pig farm, the sweat on her sun-roused freckles dried in a layer of salt. Scents of woodsmoke and manure nosed through the screen door, smacking into the invisible cold front and making her feel sick to her stomach. Both knees were skinned open, her left palm had tiny bits of gravel stuck in it, and the gold trim on her banana seat bike was dangling.
Sucking the ice-filled dishcloth that covered her bloodied fat lip and newly chipped ten-year-old overbite, she wiped her eyes and tried to relax. She thought if she could cool off, she might be able to remember losing control of her handlebars while racing Kelly Parker down Oakhill Rd.
Lovely, restrained, vivid little story. Wonderful word play. k.
thanks, k. Wondering how I can get out of my comfort zone this year. Maybe some little stories will help.
Good idea. k.
Jane, I’ve found these FSF very helpful in doing just that. They’ve triggered stories I would never have come up with on my own.
Love memories…and always seem to be the character when reading anything by Jane Hewey. Love her writings!
Thank you, Shari. I love seeing you here!!
This made me smile. What a wonderful little tale with great detal. You really took the prompt in an entertaining direction. Good job, Jane.
thank you! this is fun. so glad it made you smile. I’m glad I found Lillie’s blog.
Now you’re making me remember the hundreds of summer days I spent flying (and falling) on my bike, I think my knees had permanent scabs from May to September. Very vivid vignette of stuff that was once very very important and now sits at the back of the memory hole. Enjoyed it much, Jane. And an interesting challenge–how much one can say in five sentences.
There is an amazing space that opens up in the back of my brain (or it least that’s what it feels like) when I get an experience like this out onto paper/screen. No helmets back then, we’re lucky to be able to put a sentence together now.
This story was all too real for me – lots of bike wrecks and I grew up not too far from a pig farm. It ‘s amazing how vivid this is for me! Great fun to read!
So glad you found it vivid and fun to read. This was a mind expanding exercise for me; I usually stick to poetry. Thank you for coming by to read!
five sentences can say so much . . . it makes me want to have a go Jane, gets me excited to write . . . you really do pack in plenty, so it almost reads like a cinematic story board . . . vivid indeed: a great example of the discipline for sure
I’l love to see a fiver fiction from you, Arron. I’ll stay tuned
Bravo!
: ) thank you!
Well I certainly hope she was wearing a helmet. Of course I think they are silly for just bicycle but for motorcyclist a must.
Hi Carl. She was not wearing a helmet. It was the 70′s – helmets for bikes were not a known safety precaution, yet. I still think she was lucky, this wasn’t her first wipe-out. Definitely helmets for the motorcyclists. Save the noodle!!
Reminds me of a similar incident from my childhood, though I was younger and my dad had to take me for stitches. My chin was never quite the same.
Wonderful work, Jane. You pack such a punch in five sentences. I loved this. You’ve got writing-tight skills. I can learn from you. ~Lori
My oldest daughter has a bike-wreck scar on her chin, too. I took her to the ER for stitches and remember most clearly the grape popsicle she chose after they stitched her up. I am a fan of scars, generally speaking. They add character to the face. Thank you for your kind comments, Lori.
Full of imagery and so easy to relate to. I loved that her fearlessness came through despite the tears, and this isn’t going to stop her enjoying that bike!
Hi Lisa. Thank you for reading. I am happy her fearlessness came through.
Strong piece of flash fiction. It really takes me back to summer days as children when we were on our bikes all the time and often falling off
thanks, Luke.