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Ever wonder what it's like to be in that moment between struggling artist and published author? Read on and find out.



Friday, July 27, 2012

Refuge

            Time for another writing prompt over at The World of My Imagination. It used the picture below and the following five words: Devotion, Counterfeit, Miss, Smear, Heckle. Hope you enjoy what I came up with.





REFUGE



 

            It didn’t look like a place of refuge with similar brown houses lining the street, connected by yellowish lawns, under a washed-out sky. I stopped for a moment to drink deeply of the scene before me. Compared to the superficial dreams, faux emotions, and counterfeit lives I had been involved with over the last year what lay before me looked beautiful.
            Success is over-rated. Or at least what the world defines as success. Before I had left home I heckled my father for his silly devotion to family and principle. Obviously, I thought, he just wasn’t in touch with the real world. He barely had a high-school education and settled down with the girl that lived next door. What did he know about the big, bright world that beckoned to those talented enough to make their mark on it?
            Oh, I made it alright! Straight to the top of the charts. Everyone loved me. My fans loved my image. My friends loved my money. How I miss having someone love me for myself.
            If it hadn’t been for a tiff with one of my contemporaries I’d still be there. I’d still be going through the motions, playing to the crowd that always surrounded me, pretending I was happy. Instead, just a few words in the right ear were all it took to smear my name and end my career.
            At first, I was furious. Then, I was desperate. Finally, I accepted the situation. I even called my ex-associate and told him it was alright; that I was happy it happened.
            He laughed.
            A short walk down the street and I’m standing in front of my parent’s home. It feels like my home, but I’m not sure what the folks will say when they see me coming back, not even a suitcase in my hands, with nothing to show for my great adventure except failure.
            I knock on the door.
            My father opens it, his eyes wrinkle as a smile spreads across his face. “I hoped that you were coming home.”


10 comments:

  1. Good job, Randy. I enjoyed it very much.

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    1. Thank you. I really felt this one when I wrote it. Not that I've ever been in this situation. Still, I like it too.

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  2. Oh, wow. Now I want to hear the whole story. Flash fiction? This is good. :)

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    1. Thanks. I like the way it turned out. Although, this is not what I normally write.

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  3. Replies
    1. I appreciate the kind word. And that you were willing to stop by my blog. : )

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  4. Aw. :) I really enjoy how you can pack so much story in so few words. So much is going on here, but it doesn't feel crowded at all.

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  5. Thank you. It's surprising what can be done with a piece of micro-fiction. I love participating in your prompts because it gives me some excellent practice at just that. I appreciate the supportive comments. : )

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  6. I agree with Carrie on this one - you told so much with such a short word limit!! You really add to this weekly prompt and thank you so much for joining in!!

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    1. Well, thank you for hosting such a fun activity. :)

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