Weekly Writing Prompt
Last week was crazy and I was unable to write a weekly flash fiction story. But this week's photo was just too good to pass up. The accompanying words didn't hurt, either. If you're unfamiliar with the prompt, here are the rules:
1) Use the photo and the 5 words provided in your story
2) Keep your word count 500 words or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday to link up your post.
5) Have fun, don’t stress, let those creative juices flow.
This week's words:
It's story time. Enjoy!
Sam's arthritis flares up every fall. The man, two months short of ninety years shuffles over the forlorn sidewalks of his inner city, the city that engulfed him as he lived his life. He walks home late on Thursdays, the day he meets friends at Joe's Bar on the corner. Friends are fewer with each passing year.
The street talks to him, comforts and simultaneously harass his memories, memories of a carriage transporting newlyweds north to environs of unlimited possibilities, a recollection of children running carefree in the heat of summer.
If he dared close his eyes as his frail legs propel his worn body forward, the abandoned building on the corner transforms into Tony's Gym where he boxed as a teenager, where he dreamed his promotional fighter poster would hang proudly on the wall with the likes of Kid McCoy, Lew Jenkins, Fritzie Zivic, and Henry Armstrong. Though most of his senses have failed him, he can still smell the stifled air dripping with the sweat of the men proving their worth by beating the hell out of each other.
Now all those he fought--even Tony--are dead. Painful memories rise with each scrape of rubber on cement. He turns to his door, uses his worn key to gain access to the solitary existence of home.
Word Count: 220