Trying Out New Eyes - Flash Fiction

Cherie Reich is hosting the 2nd Annual Flash Fiction Blogfest!  Thanks, Cherie! Click on the image above, to join or read some great flash fiction in this blogfest!

Here are the rules:

1. Entries must begin with the two words: Lightning flashed.

2. Entries must be 300 words or less and be in prose. I'm not versed enough in poetry verse to judge it properly.

3. Entries must be posted on your blog between May 21 - 23.

4. You must sign up in the linky to have your entry be counted.  Click on the image above to join or read some great Flash Fiction in this Blogfest.

Okay, I wrote #1 first and then did a second one.  I have posted both.  I don't know if I am allowed to do that or not...I'm new to this, like brand new.  I have never written flash fiction.  I just read my first flash fiction during the A to Z Blogging Challenge.  I read about this blogfest, and decided to try it regardless of whether I actually posted or not.  But I've decided to post what I wrote.  I hope it's worthy enough to be considered flash fiction.  If not, maybe it's just writing something short with kind of a "wonder what happens next" or "wonder why this happened" kind of feeling to it.  I'm open to critiques of all sorts.  How will I get better otherwise?  So loser or not, I'm using this as a way to grow in my writing.

After reading #2 click here.  But don't do it yet.

Flash Fiction #1

http://kabachok.blogspot.com/2008/02/lightning-plays-in-sky.html

Lightning flashed, and the rumble of thunder licked at its heels.  The storm was moving faster than I could gather up my thoughts.  Green clouds, roiling on the horizon, quickly became an avalanche descending on the small stone house. 
My brain spoke firmly and knowingly, “It’s okay, you can head to the basement.  You’ll be safe there.”  But I could barely hear it over the roar of the wind and the incessant drumming of rain.
My mind raced to the cellar door, feet following slowly and unsteadily, seemingly disconnected from my speeding thoughts. I halted in the doorway to the old dug cellar, the dank soil and earthworm pungency giving me pause.  Below ground? 
Lightning flashed.  The charged air spurred me to step down.  The windows reverberated with pounding wind and rain, becoming tentative barriers to the elements,  Left with no choice, I ducked into the damp darkness, closing the small door behind me.
An eternity of seconds rushed and roared overhead as I crouched in the darkness trying not to touch the stone and dirt wall behind me.  Before I could acclimate to this dark underground world, the turmoil above came to a dead stop.  Cautiously, I stepped up and cracked open the door.  All was unchanged.  No windows broken.  Not a thing out of place.  “Nothing to see here.  Move along.”  
I straightened up, stepping out into the kitchen again. The pattering rain lightly danced on an intact roof.  I could hear my thoughts again.  “I told you it would be all right.”  I sighed deeply and pulled open the back door to breathe in the clean night air.
Lightning flashed silently, illuminating a void.  The barn was gone.

Flash Fiction #2


Lightning flashed to the sound of thunderous roaring.  Compose yourself.  My feet wanted to carry me away, but somehow I couldn’t manage even a small step. Lightning continued to flash from, what seemed to me, all directions at once.  I wanted to cover my eyes.  I wanted to cover my ears to silence the thunder.  It rumbled and vibrated the ground climbing up my back from my heels to my forehead, where it stopped, threatening to crumble me where I stood.  My voice caught, dry in my throat; I could muster no sound, other than a mumbling half-cry.
The storm raged on endlessly and out of my control, its timing and power determined by a force beyond me. There had to be a safe spot; some small corner to hide and wait this out.  I looked feverishly for something to fix my attention on, to hold me up, to grab. There was nothing, no one.  My nails just pressed into my palms leaving red indented crescents, my fists clenched behind my back, a prisoner in a storm, exposed to the elements.
More lightning, more roaring.
And then a voice in my ear,
"Astraphobia...great word...you didn’t even practice that one!  Congratulations, spelling champ, AGAIN! Who says lightning doesn’t strike twice?"
I felt an arm, my mom's arm, wrapping around my shoulders, holding me up, leading me away from the cameras and crowd. It was time to go home.