It was only a few weeks ago that I discovered flash fiction. I was scrolling though a writing forum (http://www.writingforums.org/) and came across a flash fiction contest. Upon doing some quick research, I discovered that flash fiction is basically a story told in around 100 words. It was pretty tricky for me, considering I tend to be on the wordier side, but I decided to give it a shot. Here it is!
Cold winds swirled though the empty streets of Aberlon. Winter had come suddenly; taking many by surprise. Farmers and cattle froze in the fields. Wives and children cuddled under blankets, tears turning to ice on their frigid faces.
A lone boy could stand in the cold. He was bundled with coat after coat; until he doubled in size. He was small, but he was their only hope.
“Go,” urged the people. “Save us.”
The boy was terrified. Surely he would freeze. But he had to go. He walked the frozen roads for days and days. He found scraps, anything that could be rolled in his ever growing ball. He pushed and shoved until it grew far beyond his bundled body. He struggled and shouted as his shivering bones ached to move the mound.
He made it. He came home chilled to the bone with his big ball of yarn. He rushed door to door; banging and screaming. “I’m home,” he called.
There was no answer. The town of Aberlon was silent but for his cries. He ran for his mother, cradling her icy bones; her crystal skin. He wept for her, his tears creating an icy cocoon, morphing him to stone.
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