Live to Write, readtolivetowrite

Louisa of Earth- Flash Fiction Friday

Hello, creatives!

Another Flash Fiction Friday for you.

I have been so lazy getting these done. I have focused a lot of my attention on my WIP. It is going well, but I’m feeling the lack of inspiration that these pieces bring me. I need to start actively adding flash fiction back into my writing routine.

Anywho, please remember, these pieces are not perfectly edited and are meant as personal inspiration. Today’s dialogue prompt comes from thefakeredhead.com

Thanks for reading!

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**

The bell rang from Herring Elementary School, announcing the end of another school day. Laughter and cheers rang out as the school doors opened. Across the street, a faint squeal of surprise was lost in the commotion.

“What is that infestation of tiny creatures over there?”

She was slender. Too slender. And her height was eye-boggling, eight feet, like a professional basketball player, only taller. Her eyes were too large for her diamond shaped face, they were too far apart too. Honestly, the only part of her that truly resembled a human was her ability to speak our languages so well. But even her voice was cause for alarm. There was a static to it like she was speaking through a radio.

“That is a school. Those are children.” Louisa rolled her eyes and tugged at the bony elbow of Shell’s arm. That is what Louisa called her after Shell tried and failed to teach Louisa her full name, which was at least ten syllables long.

“What is schooool? Do they raise the younglings?”

“No. It’s, like, a disciplinary system. They are taught how to function in society. They are taught other things too, like math and science. Please hurry. You should not be seen out here.” If her height, her voice, and her eyes were not enough of an eye catcher, the color of her silvery skin would certainly give anyone reason to do a doubletake.

“Did you attend schooool?” Shell elongated the oo sound, and her large eyes blinked down at me in wonder.

“Ugh, can you please move? And yes, of course.”

Louisa wondered again why she agreed to help Shell. She was either an alien or experiment gone wrong. Louisa knew she was trying to hide. She found her in a dumpster, for goodness sakes. But who she was hiding from, Louisa wasn’t sure. If she were found harboring Shell, she was not sure what would happen.

So, why?

Oh yeah, that is why.

Louisa felt fine. Her back and legs no longer ached as they had the last four months. She tried to save money to see a doctor, but it was never enough. The first thing Shell said when Louisa struggled to open the dumpster lid was, “You are in pain.” And right she was. Louisa froze when she gazed into those large, oval eyes. She was useless when Shell stood to her full height and reached out, placing her cold, clammy hand around Louisa’s waist and under her shirt, pressing it to her lower back. Shell closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh. Suddenly, there was a tightness followed by a deep tingling beneath her hand. Then, the pain was gone. “That should add to your health and longevity. Tumors are nasty inconveniences,” Shell said, blinking down at me with an odd, inhuman smile on her silver lips.

“Oh, that is splendid. You may help me restore my ship. The compressor is all out of sorts, and the gravitation calibration is in disarray.”

They were nearing Louisa’s duplex now.

“Yeah, no. I did not do well in school. That’s why I’m a waitress, and that is why it was me who found you hiding in the dumpster.”

“Oh, I see. It is different where I am from. We share a collective consciousness. Anything new is immediately shared with the other members of my species. There is no need for schooool. It is quite useful, this consciousness we share. Although, there are moments of intimacy that I would prefer to keep private.”

“Eww. Please, stop talking. We’re here.” Louisa let go of Shell’s elbow and unlocked the garage door. A group of children walking on the sidewalk fast approached. Louisa hoisted the door up and hustled Shell inside.

Louisa gave an awkward wave to the children who eyeballed the figure towering behind her in the shadows. She began to pull down the garage door when sirens sounded, and police cars burst from nowhere, driving up over the curb and straight into Louisa’s yard. She froze, hand still on the door.

“Oh, god. They are going to find Shell in my house. I’m going to prison, or worse. The government will wipe my brain and send me to a looney bin!”

Louisa’s mind raced with excuses, then scenarios, none of them ending well. She stumbled forward on legs like jelly.

The group of kids who passed a moment ago was now being shooed away by an officer after they stopped to watch the scene unfold. Louisa’s eyes locked onto the girl at the back of the group. She was slightly taller than the rest, her eyes, just a tad too big, too far apart. And the pieces of her exposed skin shone in the sunlight like a new dime.

Louisa turned around to find an empty garage. No Shell.

Shouts from the officers filled the empty space in her head, but they were soon drained out and replaced with something else. A static voice.

“Thank you, Louisa of Earth, for your kindness.”

Louisa saw a flash behind her eyes, as bright as the sun. Then, her mind was blank. Next, it was swimming with thoughts of where she was and who was shouting at her.

Louisa walked toward the uniformed men standing in her front yard, confused and filled with questions.

 

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4 thoughts on “Louisa of Earth- Flash Fiction Friday”

  1. I love this! I love your ability to take a prompt and tell a story, no matter what the genre or premise. I’ve always loved the idea of writing about someone or something that doesn’t understand earth. It makes you realise the intricate details we never usually need to explain, but still exist. Great job ❤

    Like

    1. You are amazing! I can’t thank you enough for reading my flash fictions. It means a lot and your praise is so reassuring.

      Yes, I always wanted to store about something otherworldly that had no clue to humanities customs. I hoped to capture a small piece in this flash fiction.

      Thanks for the vote of confidence, M!

      Liked by 1 person

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