Because I have to get up at 4 am for a 6 am flight to New York, I am unveiling my first draft of this week's Flash Fiction entry. Hopefully, I'll have time tomorrow to post something a little more substantial.
If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the fear as he caught sight of his son.
He knew even before beginning to run, he would never reach the boy in time.
How did he get so far from the house so fast?
Straining forward, anything to go faster.
Please – let me reach him.
His son had nearly reached the busy street.
The child stepped down from the curb. The first car -
Stopped. He snatched the boy up in his arms, gasping.
He was joyful, exhausted, angry. Grateful.
He never forgot.
(100 words including title)
Have you ever thought
6 days ago