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A Substance Which Generates Ideas - Flash Fiction
“I’m counting down from sixty,” Ana yells. She faces the dark brown bark of the oak tree. Its long winding limbs stretch over sixty feet. “60, 59, 58.” She continues counting, shutting her eyes tight. Her sisters giggle behind her, and eventually she hears them trotting off. She breathes in the earthy smell of the damp dirt, and she hears the forest alive with critters and insects. The chirping of birds and rustling of leaves relax her. As the numbers decrease, so does her heart rate. She is content. Finally, she reaches zero. “Ready or not, here I come!”
She spins around, an eager grin on her face. She darts through the forest, jumping over roots and onto rocks. “Aha!” she exclaims as she ducks under a bush, sure that she was going to find her sisters hiding. “Oh,” her voice drops. No sisters hiding under the bush. She migrates deeper into the forest. With determination, she trudges through the thick underbrush. After several long minutes of travel, she happens upon a slow flowing stream.
She squats on the sandy border of the trickling creek, poking around at the shiny minerals with her index finger. On the bank across the creek, she spots a dark green frog. Her face lights up. The creek is a few too many feet wide to jump across. It’s not warm enough of a day for her to want to walk through the water. She spots a gray stone a few meters to her left. It’s big enough for only one foot, but she attempts to cross anyway.
With her eyes still on the pond frog, she carefully steps onto the stone. She feels that it’s sturdy enough to continue, but as she puts her remaining weight on the rock, it suddenly gives out and she’s thrust into the chilly water. She lands on her bottom, but even her T-Shirt is soaked. As if things couldn’t get worse, she missed the frog hop away. She’s got no idea where he is now.
She exhales with dismay. She feels an odd sensation throughout her body. A prickling cool awareness atop her skin. It's as though the sensation begins to move, and it’s heading towards her head. She isn’t alarmed by the feeling, just curious. Once the corporeal tingle reaches her head, she looks immediately to the left. With her eyes glued to the thick trunked oak, she jumps to her feet and dashes to the tree. Behind the tree sits Bette and Candy.
“We kept quiet,” the middle of the three, Bette, says.
“We were like spies.” Candy, the youngest, grins. “Watching and listening.”
“It was a good hiding spot. I had no idea where you were!” Ana is smiling too now.
“How did you find us?” Bette asks. Ana thinks about her response. She’s not sure what to say. She had no clue where the girls were hiding; it only came to mind after falling into the water.
“I dunno,” Ana says. “It just popped into my head I guess, right after I fell.”
“Maybe,” Candy says, suddenly getting serious. “You got,” She pauses. Ana and Bette eye Candy suspiciously. “Magic powers!”Ana laughs it off, entirely sure she is magical-powerless. As the three girls guffaw, their mother shouts for them to come inside for lunch, and so they hurry out of the forest.
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This piece of flash fiction was written using this prompt, "A substance which generates ideas, a spy, 1 minute." Two of my friends and I write flash fiction regularly, and from a list of prompts. It's a fun activity we do, and one I definitely recommend!