Done for a twitter contest I stumbled across, and a lighter tone than most of my novel writing (more MG-flavored, which much of my more humorous writing is), but a fun detour for half an hour. Enjoy.
I may delete later, if I wake up tomorrow and wonder what the hell I was thinking.
It’s a Flash Fiction with a cool photo prompt, an old house waist deep in sand (inside the house), as if a desert flowed through.
The story (237 words):
The Hour Glass House.
My sister has powers. So do I.
My parents left us at home alone and told us to be good. They’re optimists.
When my sister wouldn’t pass the remote, I made the TV screen show her face smudged on a fat man’s butt. She glued the couch to my ass. Scratchy. And harder to accomplish than you might think. I unlocked her diary to figure out how she’d done it. She caught me, and wasn’t happy. Like I care about Dreamy Jeremy’s eyebrows?
She slammed me into my bedroom wall and jammed the door behind. Which pissed me off. I had places to be.
But it’s okay. I’m sneaky, and still one ahead. She’s probably just now realizing that I slipped a snake into her braids, which has been chewing her hair. All day. He he. What’ll Dreamy Jeremy think about that?
I think she just flipped the house upside down. There’s sand coming through the windows, like a tipped-over hour glass. Um, that’s probably not good. I’m not sure she’s joking anymore.
I’m going to puke spiced meatballs. Flipped again.
My sister has powers. But so do I. And chest deep in sand or not, I’m clutching her diary, reading like a madman. Double pinky lift? Interesting. A smile hurts my sand-scratched face, but I don’t care. Ring the bell. Time for the next round.
I’m not finished yet.