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Friday, 8 January 2016

Comet - Last Ride - He Who Remains

Flash Fiction / Micro Fiction
Length - 100 words each

Three pieces written for the competition theme 'Christmas'.
* 'Comet' was 'Highly Commended' in the competition!



She looked up from her grazing as he came down the hillside, leaving soft hoof tracks in his wake. The sullen expression he wore while he gently shook free some snow from his antlers gave an air of foreboding to her question.
                'How did the trials go?'
                'I'm no red nose, not leadership material apparently.' He stamped a hoof and brayed derisorily. 'Nobody ever remembers a Comet.' His mother welled with pride.
                'So be the one to change it.' She rubbed her furry neck against his own. 'Be the best Comet there's ever been, and make them sing about you.'

Last Ride

Light blinked into the cell and the gaggle of old men stirred into a frenzy; the hour was too irregular for a feeding. As a couple of snickering pint-sized gaolers unlocked the iron gate they fought for anonymity in the corners.
                'They're all so scrawny.'
                'Fat suit and facial hair. Hurry up and make a decision.'
                He caught the eye of a withered man in the opposing corner and grinned with pointed teeth.
                'You.' The unfortunate looked around wildly for help, but the others shrunk away. Outside the reindeer rucked like destriers.
                'Be merry. It's time for your last ride.'

He Who Remains

A swirling wind threatened to whip his grandfather's hat from his hand. He shot a sceptical glance at his mother.
                'You're sure about this?' Tradition was one thing, but casting heirlooms to the elements seemed excessive.
                She nodded stoically.
                'He's survived worse!' As the snow swirled about them he was unsure if she'd winked or taken a flake to the eye.
                He waited for a lull and slammed it down on the snowman's head, before ushering his mother back inside. Their backs turned, a howling gust conspired to wrestle the hat free - but twigged fingers snatched it straight back.


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