Four More from Fifty | Four
Hunks on a Plane, Jack of Diamonds, the Solace of Moss, and Found Joy in the Sunday Paper
This week, four more vignettes from my winter challenge to write one 54-word story a day for 54 days.
Over the Atlantic
The only time I ever wanted to die, I was on a plane. Dublin-bound, seated near the tail. Mid-flight, impossibly beautiful men walked toward me, almost touching my shoulder as they passed.
“The Swedish National Football team,” the flight attendant whispered, placing the tiniest bottle of vodka on my tray.
Somehow, we all survived.
Jack of Diamonds
The Jack of Diamonds dazzles; wears only Italian shoes; looks right through you when you’re not looking; is ready to lead when necessary; has intel and access; cannot be fooled; wishes that you would select the movie; never takes all the credit but will completely and utterly devastate you if you dare him to.
A Preparation and a Harvest
Even if asked, she would say, “No, I’m not lonely. The sparrows and flickers. The owls. My garden—there’s always a preparation or a harvest.”
Only sometimes, after a dense rain, does she walk to the old alder, press her cheek into the moss wrapped around its lush, broad trunk, and close her eyes.
Unleashed
From the Sunday paper, Lost and Found section—
“Found: at St. George’s dog park on the afternoon of April 10: a general swell of enthusiasm and eagerness to play with strangers accompanied by intense sensations of calmness and joy, interrupted only occasionally by the overwhelming desire to roll around naked in the wet grass.”
Additional vignettes from Fifty | Four can be found here.