e c l e c t i c a f i c t i o n
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Boot Camp's July Blast
Five flash fictions blindly selected by Eclectica from Alex Keegan's Boot Camp's July Blast.
The Thing That Mattered
Rick wouldn't have wanted a priest, either. But there the priest was, fat as Hem but womanish, droning away in sad, singsong Latin. And Rick wouldn't have wanted to be dead. Yet there he was, about two minutes away from dropping permanently into the wet Cuban ground on a hot Cuban day.
Terence S. Hawkins
Myths of Minnesota
"Papoose has blue eyes!" they said, leaning over the carriage. "May not live through the winter."
The Man of Flies
The gas lamps along the bridge were lit by then, and as I made my way across the river, I saw the dark form enter the boulevard. What secured my gaze was a gas lamp that exploded without instigation, particles of glass hurled in obtuse directions, and I became frightened.
Just look at her, for God's sake. There's never a bra helping out her big fallen boobs, which dance beneath her potato sack dresses, some of them tie-dyed, all of them smelling like the guy who works the night shift at 7-11.
He snatched up his tote bundle and stepped toward the mouth of the teepee, moving with exaggerated abruptness, hoping to appear wholly driven by anger; though, in truth, he simply didn't want to hurt so much in her presence.
The pain I felt the next morning was indescribable.
The Terrible Virtue of the Cartilaginous Fishes
Between paintings the artist welcomed a few individuals into the studio: Isabella, his mistress; Salvatore Lugatti, the dealer who handled his paintings; and Donato, a stout little man with the large hands of a sculptor (or perhaps a butcher) who provided the artist with a steady supply of curiosities.
Even Angels Fall
"If Jesus Christ were standing before me right now," John said, "You know what I'd ask? I'd ask Him to let Hank Williams out of hell."