Saskatchewan Flats...A Short Story

Wednesday Weekly Writing Prompt Time Again!

I missed a week. I've missed a couple since I found this awesome website. Each week they post a picture (see above...) and you've got a week to write a 500 word (or less...) story using five randomly chosen words. After you've written your story, just post it to the website and great things will happen.

Okay, I can't guarantee great things, but you'll feel pretty cool, and that's a good thing, right? Here's the website: HERE and here are the five words:

Bird

Kid

Loom

Soldier

Ostrich

Here's the story...Enjoy!

Saskatchewan Flats…

            “I tell you, there’s no way she’s taking the kid from me this time…no way. Just because she’s his mother, she thinks she can do whatever she wants. Well, I’m the father—I got rights, too.” I thought the lady sitting next to me as we waited for our flight might be shocked at this, but, no. She couldn’t care less. Maybe this Canadian was somehow forming some kind of female bond with Suzanne, my ex. Women are like that… They stick together.

            “Yeah,” I said a little louder which drew the attention from an elderly couple at the other end of the waiting area. “If she wants a fight—she’s going to get one. I’m taking this bird to Chicago then she’ll be sorry. If it weren’t for this business trip in Regina, I’d be there right now.” I looked over, but still, there was no response from my fellow passenger who was obviously traveling with me to the windy city. She just sat there, pretending not to hear me, like some ostrich with her head in the sand. I tried a new tactic.

            “Canada…” This time, the woman looked over at me, her blue eyes met mine. Now, Ma'am, that I have your attention…

            “Great country, Canada. My dad used to say he loved Canada, especially during Vietnam.” The woman just stared at me. “No? Nothing?" I said to her. "You see, a lot of us Americans came to Canada during the Vietnam War because they didn’t want to be a soldier…in…Vietnam.”

            I gave up. The woman wouldn’t know comedy if a pie hit her in the face. Oh well… I looked outside the window. “Man, that’s flat… You ever get sick of the flat? I’m from Colorado and I think I’d go crazy with all that flat everywhere. You know, like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Crazies loom in the flats.”

            Wow, I thought. The lady actually got up and left. Was it something I said?