Flash Fiction

Horror - Event
Dragon's Lair
Baker

The vinegar-soaked rag tied over the baker's nose and mouth did little to stifle the rotting stench of dragon's breath. Barry Dink's shaking hands clung to obsidian scales as big as kite shields as he lowered his doughy body down between two sleeping eyes and onto the dragon's snout. Moonlight poured in through the opening where the mountain had blown its top a thousand years before and made the salt crystal around the dragon's nostrils glimmer.

Although Barry was a baker, he was not The Baker, not the king's baker anyway. He was the assistant to the assistant baker, which meant he had the honor of mining Dragon's Salt straight from the nose of the king's dragon. It was a very old dragon and in chains, locked away under the castle, and yet, Barry had not gotten this position because the man before him retired, oh no... The last man had woken the dragon and been eaten, exactly like the man before him and the one before him.

Barry's round belly laid flat on the bridge of the dragon's nose and his chin-length ringlets dangled in his face as scooched his way out to the nostrils. He looked over the edge at the considerable drop and cringed, clinging to the beast for dear life. If he fell, it wasn't like he'd have landed on pillow; a pile of gold felt a lot like a pile of rocks from eight feet up. Barry managed to shimmy his way down and began chiseling at the crusty salt deposits around one nostril. A huge chuck of salt, about the size of his own thick head, came off in Barry's hand and he held it in the air. Suddenly, it began to reflect a milky yellow light. He looked closer, and through the glass's reflection, he saw two fierce slits. Eyes.

A cacophony of sound like a thousand brass trumpets erupted from the dragon's mouth as Barry was lifted further and further into the air, desperately clinging to the end of the dragon's nose. Rocks and debris shower down from the cracks of the ancient creature's body as it climbs to its feet. The dragon's head tilted back and lets out another ear-piercing roar, as if to howling at the moon. Barry's fingers strained under his weight as he held on for dear life. With a quick flick of the dragon's head, Barry was tossed up into the air and then fells down straight towards the dragon's open mouth. Exactly like the man before him, Barry thought. Only just before the dragon snatched him from the air with its monstrous jaws, the pile of gold shifted ever so slightly, as did the dragon and its jaws, and missed Barry. Instead, he thunked off a tooth and slide down the dragon's slimy lip to the corner of its mouth and rode a line of obsidian scales all the way down its back, picking up speed as his backside skidded off the black obsidian glass, until he spilled into the pile of glittering gold far below.

Somehow Barry Dink walked out of the dragon's lair unscathed, and with his boon of salt to boot. He had done nothing different than the others, he knew that. No cathartic act of heroism saved him. No trail overcometh. Barry simply got to leave the cave and live a long happy life as the king's baker, while other men who came before him will forever lay in the belly of the beast. It wasn't fair. But life was rarely fair. Why would we expect death to be any different?

Young Adult
Chicken Coop
Photographer

The high concentration of ammonia from the dense chicken waste irritated Shannon's lungs, throat, and eyes, but continued to snap pictures as fast as she could. This was by far the largest chicken house she'd investigated, and as she'd feared, it was the most heartbreaking as well. "Oh God, you poor thing," she said, her lens focused on a clean yellow baby chick, fresh out of the egg, stuck waste deep in feces. She snaps a picture and immediately scoops it up, saving it without thinking another second. She stared down at her hand, thickly coated, and gaged. "Oh god, why did I do that? Ugh." With nowhere to whip it off, she was forced to scrape her hand across the cage bars it get it off.

Shannon Albright has always had a big heart and dreamt that one day she would change the world, and people would absolutely love her for it. A dangerous combination when mixed with a documentary about poultry production from the internet. "It changed my life," she told anyone who would listen. And ever since then--then being last week--she had been dead set on freeing the chickens. And so, Shannon broke in and shuffled up and down the chick house aisles for hours and hours. She worked through the night, unlatching cages and dumping out chickens. "Be free, my little chickies! Fly away! You're free, you're free!" A camera mounted on the wall turns to point at her. "You hear that, Mr. Tyson, your reign of terror is over!" But the chickens just clucked around her feet in a pile of writhing feathers.

Shannon had imagined this moment differently. She ran to the enormous warehouse double doors and pushed them open, hoping to release her feathered friends in a flurry of triumphant flight. Yet when she opened the door, she was met with two dozen migrant farmhands. They began asking questions in Spanish to which Shannon yelled, "Animal cruelty is wrong!" and waggled her finger in the air. "I am here to rescue the..." But the workers pushed past her, hands raking their faces in horror. Shannon was taken aback, but continued on her soapbox, now directed at the security camera above, "You hear me, Richie Rich! You can arrest me, you can torture me, but I will never stop releasing the chickens! Ah-ha-ha-ha-haa!" Shannon posed dramatically, then camera simple turned back the other way and didn't move again.

Mr. Tyson didn't come down and arrest her. Security didn't even come. She simply stood there and watched the workers chase chickens and clean up the mess she'd made. She had considered grabbing a broom and helping, but hadn't she helped enough? she thought. Shannon white-knuckled her Tesla's steering wheel and expelled a long high-pitched whine of frustration. That is, of course, until she saw the billboard that would change her life. "Save the Whales," it said in ten foot tall letters. And in that moment, Shannon knew her true calling. She would save the whale!

And so, Shannon packed up her harpoon gun and net and set sail to save the whales.

Science Fiction
Water Park
Obstetrician

Psychological Weakness - allowing herself to be under the thumb of her parents
Psychological Need - to learn to live her own path
Moral Weakness - thinks she made a wrong decision becoming a doctor
Moral Need - learn to love being a doctor again
Desire - wants to forget about being a doctor
Opponent - husband, child, pregnant woman
Plan - make it to the bottom, then get her to a hospital
Battle - battling the waves and turns of the water slide.
Self-revelation - She does want to be a doctor, just not a surgeon.
New equilibrium - Switches to the Obstetrician residency

Viewpoint: First Person - Flashback

Designing Principle: On the journey down a colossal lazy river, glory hungry surgical intern discovers her true calling when she's forced to deliver a baby in an inflatable raft while going over rapids.

Some people stumble into their true calling, while for others, like me, it runs over with a Mack truck.

I had decided I wasn't going back after lunar vacation. I'd spent the majority of my twenties with my nose in books studying to become what my father had dreamt for me. I deserved a vacation. I deserved to go places, and see moons, and visit other planets. I deserved this trip.

"Water park planet are for children, Quin," my father would say, not seeing the irony in exclaiming such a thing to an eight-year-old. And now, twenty years later, I find Europa more incredible than I had ever dreamt as a child. Thousand-foot water slides. Wave pools that rivaled Earth oceans. And the main attraction, The Lazy Mississippi, a towering helix of tubing three miles long and a thousand stories tall. "Such a waste," father had called it.

The planet Europa was a scientific marvel. Jupiter's smallest moon, and thickly covered in dense layers of ice, it was the first moon to be nudged. It's common practice now, but the math was all theoretical back then. Scientists weren't sure if the moon would break up exiting Jupiter's orbit, or if they'd get something wrong and the moon would careen out into space, never to be seen again. But the nudge worked, and as Europa fell into orbit with the sun, about a third of the way from Earth and Venus, the ice melted into the spectacular water world it is now. And although the gravitational pull of Earth's momentum on Europa can caused heavy storms, it was nothing but beautiful blue skies at the top of The Lazy Mississipii right now.

I rode the single rider line, so I didn't have to wait at the top for very long and was thankful for that. The air was so much thinner, I could feel my lungs fighting to keep up. I had asthma as a child and the feeling was similar. I was put in a raft with a family of four, a husband, wife, and a small boy, Dayna, Edgur, and little Vynn from Jupiter's mist moon Enceladus. The forth member of their family "Is due two weeks from Tuesday," Dayna said, "That'd be my sister's birthday, wouldn't that just be great?" I smiled. She was nice. If you ask me, though, she looked ready to pop any second now.

Soon after the teen lifeguard nudged our raft over the first fall, Dayna had her first contraction. God, I hate being right. There was a considerable amount of water in the bottom of the raft from the swishing and slouching, but Dayna seemed confident that her water had broken and the baby was coming. "Oh god, oh god, I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it! Oh, baby, I'm so sorry!" the husband said, losing his grip. "What do we do? Help!" I wondered who he was yelling for as I unlatched my safety harness and pushed the bar over my head. "Hey. Hey, it's going to be okay, alright?" I crawled out into to the center of the octagonal raft as we gradually sloshed along the slow, winding switchback. "I'm a surgical intern on Earth," I tried to explain, but Edgur's panic trampled over me. "We can't do this here. We can't! Please, we gotta get off! We want off! Let us off!" he yelled, as if the pimple-faced life guard could just hit the breaks on a hundred thousand gallons of rushing water so they could exit the ride.

"Sir!" I used my doctor voice, clear and strict. "I need you to calm down." My father's voice rang in my ear, "Panic is the body's natural response to the absence of choice." I looked him in the eye, "Edgur, right? Well I'm a doctor, Edgur," Which wasn't technically true, but useful for quelling nerves. "Everything's going to be okay." This pulled Edgur from the edge, "You're a doctor? Oh god," He said, throwing his hands to up to give praise to heavens above, "Thank you, God, thank you!" Which, honestly, irked me a little. God hadn't missed out on doing keg floats to study, I had. "So you've done this before? Delivered a baby? So you know what you're doing then, right?" he asked. I'd always believed in telling my patients the truth, regardless of feelings or circumstance. Father had spoken at length of the slippery slope that would lead a surgeon down. "Well, no and yes." I said. "No I've never delivered a baby, but yes I know how it goes." The look on Edgur's face made it clear that "knowing how it goes" wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "Oh God, oh God," he repeated, raking his hand across his face with worry.

"Daddy-y-y," little Vynn sobbed. Tears ran down his little cheeks as they rounded another switchback, water splashing over the side of the boat. Vynn erupted in harsh shrieks and cried as the boat rocked heavily. "It's okay, buddy! It's okay!" Edgur said. "Mommy's going to be okay!" But the fear in his voice was undeniable. And he had reason to fear. The Lazy Mississippi was a fun filled adventure for the family, filled with leisurely, winding switchbacks, a stretch of four-star white water rapids, and the big finale, a forty-foot pool plunge over a rushing waterfall. What the hell were these yokels doing on this ride in the first place? I wondered. Three miles took a couple hours, she'd have to help Dayna no push until they could get her out. "And if the baby doesn't wait?" my father's proposed in my mind.

It wasn't long before Dayna's contractions were close enough to count between. We counted and breathed together. "That's it, Dayna, hold on, okay? We're going to get you to a hospital, just don't push." Dayna breathed heavy between contractions. They were less than thirty seconds a part now. "I don't think I can." Dayan said, clutching at her stomach around the thick pullover bar of safely harness. "Ohhhh. This baby wants to come out now, like right now, right now!" she yelled over the rush of the water. The raft was picking up speed, which meant we were coming close to the rapids now. God, had we been out here that long already? I thought. "One more hour, Dayna. One more, you can do this, just don't push." Dayna moaned, "I can't! I-- OHH!" I soon realized she wasn't going last another hour.

"Dayna! We need to get you out of that harness," I yelled over the water. Dayna clung tightly to the bars, holding them down. "No, no, please, no! I don't want to fall out!" she cried, her hair flapping in her face, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Dayna! You have to listen to me, you can't have this baby sitting down. We need to get you on your back." The Vynn's side of the raft lifts in the air and then crashes down the other side of the rapid, a wave of water slapping against them. I slid and banged against Edgur's legs, pain shot through my spine, but to my surprise, I felt him grab ahold of my of the back of my shirt like his wife's life depended on it. "OH!" Dayna cried. The boat crashed against another wave and I slid again, only I brace myself this time. "Come on, Dayna, you can do this! We can do this together!" I shouted. The last bit seemed to get through to her. "Yeah, that's right. Me and you, Dayna. I'm in this with you, all the way." And I wasn't lying. If Dayna fell out, I would too. But I pushed the thought from my mind, I couldn't think about that then. I knew it was a risk, but the baby was coming, and she couldn't have it in that chair.

"Okay," Dayna said, shivering with fright. She unbuckles her belt and pulled up the safety bar, when suddenly, as the raft ricocheted off a boulder and was sent spinning like a top. "Dayna!" Edgur yells. In his panic, he lets go of my shirt and I tumble tail over teakettle and bang against my original chair. Dayna dangled from her seat beat before it slips from her hands and she slides across the raft. I manage to get my footing enough to push off, catch her, and cushion her fall. Only this time the impact of metal was against my hand instead of my back. Pain shot through my hand, and the first thought that raced through my mind was, My hand is broken, the bones are shattered, now I can't be a surgeon. And the most incredible sense of relief washed over me, a weight I had carried since childhood, a weight my father had proudly placed on my shoulders. It was gone. Only, the pain soon subsided. I flexed my hand and it hurt, but I could flex it. Which meant, it would bruise for sure, but my future as a surgeon was still intact. Although, looking back, I think I knew even then, that I wouldn't carry that burden, my father's burden, again.

Edgur grabbed hold of his wife and held her as I clung to her feet and spread myself out on my stomach, both feet pressed against the raft walls. "OHHHH God, it's coming!" Dayna screamed. It seemed as if she was in sync with the rapids, the more she screamed and pushed the more the raft dipped and shook and crashed us against waves and rocks. I could see the baby's head crowning through the near constant splash of white water. Dayna pushed and screamed and the waves roared. His head. His neck. I braced myself, holding onto Dayna's legs as the raft rocked up... His torso. His... Her. Her feet. And I placed the most beautiful baby girl into her mother's arms, just as our raft went over the waterfall.

When I came up for air, it had been a month. Dayna and Edgur named their baby girl Quin. I'd been accepted into the OB/GYN internship program. And to my surprise, my father wasn't angry for not becoming what he'd dreamt for me. "Never in my life," he told me, "Have I been more proud."

Spy
Theater
High School Teacher

It had taken a considerable amount maneuvering to make an opening for me at Sidwell Friends School, and gave me access to the vice president's son. The Technical Theater Director's wife was fed information about her health that lead to him taking a sabbatical. I thought there had to be better ways to bug the kid, but we needed something that the kid would carry wherever he and his dad went. Felt weird spying on the vice president's son, but Nixon had long suspected Ford was up to something.

The roar of the crowd continues even after the curtain call. "House lights up and post show music... go." Christian Ford said into his headset. "Good show everybody!" he said. I stood in the back of the booth between two hulking secret service agents with my end of show "gift" in my hand. The trick would be getting it to him.

"Congratulations, Mr. Ford," I said, "you called an excellent show, you should be proud." Christian soaked up the compliment. I'd been briefed on pressure points, but I legitimately liked the kid and thought he'd done a good job. Stage managing is a thankless job, but for Christian, I think he was just happy to be out of the limelight of his father. "Here," I said, holding out the gift bag. "I got you something." The agents behind me had the bag out of my hand and the gift unwrapped before I knew what happened. "The first son is unable to accept unsolicited gifts," an agent said. Christian blustered. "He's my teacher you idiots, geeze!" The men ignored Christian, but shoved the bag and present back in my hand.

"Sorry," Christian said, clearly embarrassed. "It's alright, they're just protecting you," I said, cursing the men. Nixon wasn't known for being forgiving failure, and after the myriad of sins that took to get me in here, I could not fail. "Well, you can look at it at least right?" I held up the gift. It was a porous rock, smoothed in a tumbler. Engraved across the face was the word, 'Believe.' "Oh wow, thanks Mr. Thorton." Christian looked at his shoes, timid again. "Thanks for everything this semester." I smiled at him, and I almost forgot I was playing a part. I opened my arms and the boy gave me a hug. I slipped the rock in his pocket and patted it so he'd know it was there. He smiled, mischievously and gave him a cheeky shh and a wink.

It wasn't long after Operation Sidwell that the Watergate scandal hit the airwaves and bug recordings were wipe clean. But every now and again, I'll check that bug, and believe it or not, I'll still hear Christian Ford's force. Last I checked, the 'Believe' rock is sitting on his desk right now.

Fairy Tale
The Orthodontist
Hunter

Psychological Weakness -
Psychological Need -
Moral Weakness - assumes others know what he means by "fix it"
Moral Need - use his words carefully.
Desire - To become a better huntsman
Opponent - orthodontist
Plan - have the orthodontist make his teeth jagged
Battle -
Self-revelation - he should have been more specific
New equilibrium - He has straight, non-lethal teeth

There was once a great Huntsman at war with mighty beasts of the land. His body was like that of a bear, enormous, broad shouldered, and covered in a thick layer of hair. He eyes were like that of eagles, sharp from endless hunting. His fingernails were filed to the points like the claws of a wolverine. But still the Huntsman knew he was a lethal as he possibly could be and smiled, only to see himself in the reflection, and realized could still become even more lethal after all.

He had already been to three orthotists before and demanded they fix his teeth. "They are far too straight, and nowhere near as pointy as I'd like," he had said. "Fix my teeth to make them look like this." And The Huntsman reached into his bag and pulled out a piranha, indicating to the whirlwind of serrated teeth biting at the air.

But The Huntsman was growing weary. It had been many years since he'd done this much talking, and each orthodontist refused him. And to top it all off, his piranha had died... Which is how, when the fourth Orthodontist asked how he could help, The Huntsman simply yelled, "Fix them!" He had grown tired of dealing with ordinary humans. In the wild if you want something, you yell and fight and take, you do not talk! "Fix my teeth now!" And so The Orthodontist went to work filing and drilling and blasting the Huntsman's teeth. By the pain of it all, the Huntsman was sure his teeth would surely be deadly weapons. "More! More!" the Huntsman yelled with a mouth full of tools. "Ah ha ha haaa!"

The Orthodontist pulled out all the stops, gluing a cage of barbed wire across his face and mechanism in the roof of the Huntsman's mouth that, when turned with a key, twisted his teeth as if they were being drawn and quartered. "Yes," the Huntsman yelled, "Fix them! Fix them!" As the Orthodontist worked, the Huntsman dreamt of shredding, slicing, slashing everything monster he could... "All done," the Orthodontist said. He held up a mirror. "All fixed up, what do you think?" he said. The Huntsman stared two rows of perfectly straight white teeth, and screamed. "What did you do?" he yelled. "I said fix them, do these looked fixed to you?" And he bit the Orthodontist. He gnawed on his arm. He yanked and pulled and snarled and yet the meat didn't shred from the man's arm.

The Huntsman had exhausted his patients, spoken in haste, and paid the price for it. From then on out, the Huntsman resigned himself to no longer being the highest predator on the food chain. For he had never known such pain since his war with the mighty beast known as The Orthodontist.

Historical Fiction
Ferris Wheel
Captain

Psychological Weakness -
Psychological Need -
Moral Weakness -
Moral Need -
Desire -
Opponent -
Plan
Battle
Self-revelation
New equilibrium

Captain of the Ferris Wheel is title most would laugh at, but one that must be taken seriously. Most of the time you just clean trash out of the carriages and the occasional pile of puke, but last fourth of July, the biggest day of the year for a Ferris Captain, I showed the world why the title is nothing to laugh at.

"I pounded on the emergency over ride and yet the wheel wouldn't stop spinning..." the Captain said. "I pulled the manual break until the metal lever broke off in my hand. As riders rounded the loading platform I directed them to dive from their carriages and I caught them in my arms. All of them but one. A little boy was still in one of the carriages and I was the only one who could save him."

"Your honor, I object. This is a complete and utter fabrication!" "Overruled. Continue, Mr. Collins."

What the prosecution didn't know, what that the judge was a personal family friend. We go way back. My wife is in the cooking club down at the Y with his wife. We golf on Sundays.

"The little boy needed my help. I was trying to help him," Darren Collins said. "What happened was a tragic accident. I'm the hero of this story, you know. I was on the front page of the Huffington Post," he told the twelve jurors directly. "I brought enough copies for everybody," he said, gets up from the witness stand.
,
"Objection your honor!" "Sit down, Mr. Collins. Would the defense like to submit this newspaper into evidence?" "The defense would not your honor. To the defense's knowledge there is no such newspaper."

"And so, what am I supposed to do? The ferris wheel's a-spinning and a-spinning, faster and faster and faster," spittle sticks to his chin. "And I'm the Captain of the Ferris Wheel, am I not? So it was my duty to stop the Ferris wheel at any cost was it not?" He grabs the podium microphone. "I had to save the little boy, did I not?"

"Mr. Collins, let go of the microphone..."

"So what better way to get the boy down than to spin it. Faster and faster. Faster and faster. Spin it. Spin it. Spin it!" He twists the microphone out of the witness stand, breaking the wooden podium.

"So you admit it! You kill that boy on purpose, didn't you?" "Bailiff, restrain the defendant!"

"I saved him! He laughed at me so I set him free. I gave him wings," the Captain said, climbing up on the witness stand, "And I taught him how to fly!" And Darren Collins climbed on the witness stand and leaped off.

And I soared out of the courthouse on wings of angels. Don't believe me? It was on CNN and everything.

Romance
Cycling
Travel Agent

Psychological Weakness - She is afraid to let anyone get to know her, because she's always leaving soon.
Psychological Need - is to learn to put down roots and learn make connections with others.
Moral Weakness - is taking peoples money to promote places she doesn't believe in.
Moral Need - is to learn to value the village more than money and help keep it untainted by the outside world.
Desire - is to make her video, make her money, and leave for the next grand adventure
Opponent - the cyclist, the widow club, major of the town
Plan - deal with it long enough to mend his leg, a week at most, and be on her way.
Battle - Old ladies bridge club invites her to come next week, will she be there? She thinks she might, until cyclist sees her video on how bad the town is.
Self-revelation - she learns that the connections she made is not worth trading for the money.
New equilibrium - Gives a bad review of the town, "If you like parties, not your place, but if you like quiet sunsets, ect..." then lives on the farm with cyclist

Psychological Weakness -
Psychological Need - to let go of the past and embrace the future
Moral Weakness - he believes stopping progress is good for the town
Moral Need - to allow the town to change and grow
Desire - preserve the memory of the place he grew up in.
Opponent - the vlogger, the widow club, mayor of the town
Plan - To make life as hard as possible on vlogger so she'll give them a bad review.
Battle - Vlogger
Self-revelation - is to learn that change can be a good thing, since change brought him her
New equilibrium - Is the star in vlogger's video about town's rustic charm

Plot Archetype: Enemies to Lovers

Viewpoint: First Person - Flashback

Designing Principle: When an American travel vlogger hits a Belgian cyclist with her car, she stays on his farm to nurse him back to health and falls in love with the rural life and the cyclist.

"Thank God for divorce!" Lidia Bash said, pausing as laughter rippled through the auditorium, right on cue. "Ladies, five years ago, I was a travel agent who had never traveled, I was a mother with an empty next, and I had a husband who was never around... and I think we all known why." A collective groan rumbled through the crowd. "Now I couldn't change the last two, but I could change the first one. So I bought a camera and packed my back and traveled the world by my self. And I'm going to show you how you can to..."

"Hey guys, welcome back to Travel Agents That Actually Travel, I'm Lidia Bash--" Ding-ding. Ding-ding. A cyclist rides through her frame. "'ello," the Belgian on a bike said. Lidia crimps her air, repositions herself in front of the

Romance
Cyclist
Travel Agent

Psychological Weakness - she thinks she is honoring her father's memory by running Daddy Daughter Travel without him.
Psychological Need - To chase her own dreams of being a concert pianist.
Moral Weakness - believing she can stand in the way of progress
Moral Need - is to learn to let the town progress
Desire - to convince him to not take his business elsewhere.
Opponent - Rotary club treasurer.
Plan - show him his actions affect others, how they'll go under without that contract.
Battle - bikes, desire to play piano, rotary man
Self-revelation - Let go of her father's dream and chase her own.
New equilibrium - Playing piano


Psychological Weakness - is believing that people will like him if he gives them what they want
Psychological Need - learn that people respect strength
Moral Weakness - lets others talk him into doing things that hurt his company and employees.
Moral Need - to learn to stand up for what he believes is right.
Desire - move his business to Travelocity
Opponent - Travel Agent
Plan - avoid the travel agent to the best of his ability
Battle
Self-revelation - If I stayed with your company, I'd have to let workers go who have families and children. I would have to look employees of mine and tell there there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. And if I was about to do that, knowing that it wasn't true, knowing that I could have saved their jobs? Would I be the person you want me to be? I want to be that person. That is the person who is desperately in love with you. But the man you want, the man who would save your father's business, that man would not deserve a woman like you. I want to deserve you, and so I can't be the man you want.
New equilibrium

Designing Principle - When a Travel Agent explains that the trip is non-refundable, a brokenhearted newlywed gives their honeymoon to the travel agent and a random customer and hopes they fall in love and can learn how awful it is. And they learn exactly that.


People often forget Cupid shoots an arrow. *Sure you're in love, but what good is that if you bleed out first? **Any idiot can fall in love, it's surviving the wound that's the hard part.

Bells jangled as Darren Holmes stepped inside the last brick and mortar travel agency in all of North Dallas, a wicker basket full of cheese and wine in his hand. A woman on the phone greeted him with a wave and spoke into the receiver, "Hi, yes, this is Lidia Bash from Daddy Daughter Travel. I'm calling again for Rotary Treasur... Right... Fine, of course, but do you know when he'll be back in?" She held up a finger and shot him a smile.

Darren returned a reserved grin then quickly found a rotating rack of travel pamphlets to peruse. He'd been warned by a business associate that he had a tendency to stare so these days he avoided looking at most people all together. But as he twisted the pamphlet rack, Darren couldn't help but eavesdrop. He had heard Lidia's voice--Ms. Bash's voice, he corrected himself--many times over the phone, but he had imagined her differently in his head. Her stern tone and the raspy harshness to her voice had made him think of her as an old maid with a beaded chain from her glasses and perpetual cigarette in her mouth. But that wasn't so. He'd thought at first that the tattooed woman behind desk was a secretary or perhaps the daughter of the woman he'd done business with, but the voice was identical. As the pamphlet carousel came to a stop, he found Lidia's reflection filled an empty stainless steel display plate, her inked sleeve from shoulder to wrist, her black tank top, her auburn hair held back by a bandana tied on top like Rosie the Riveter. He quickly turned the rack and her image flickered from the display plate, but lingered in his mind. Darren wondered why the travel agent's age seemed to make both his business gift and his in-person visit feel somehow inappropriate now.

"Okay, well thank you," Lidia said, hanging up the phone. "Hi, how can I help you?" She smiles at Darren and the sweetness of her voice, the way she seemed to genuinely wanted to help him, her damned dimples, they all conspired send him into fits of fluttering. Thankfully, the door jangled open again and man stumbled in. "Hi, I need a refund please, thank you. Here are my tickets." He moved past Darren and slapped a pair of tickets on Lidia's desk. The man was a mess, unshaven, unshowered, possibly drunk. Darren stepped to the side, relieved to have more time to collect himself. He'd always been told he was odd, but Darren was feeling significantly odder than normal for some reason.

Here, now you two can fall in love and find out how horrible it is! If you've got someone you can just take them both. Oh well, um... I don't, so why don't you take your wife, it's fine. Oh well I'm actually not married, or, uh, spoken for... Well then I uh guess we'll both just take one each. Yeah, great. Well okay, maybe I'll see you there then. Yeah, maybe. He smiles and leaves. And I couldn't help but to wonder if he'd show, surprised to find myself hoping he would. The door jingles, it's him. He's back. "Oh, you came back..." she said with a smile. For me?

"Hi, yes. In all the commotion I nearly forgot I came in here for a reason. I need to cancel the rotary club cruise. If you look at the fine print you'll see we can do this. You're going to give your business to those corporate scumbags? Those scumbags are fraternity brothers of him and have made me an exceptional offer. The deal is done, it's being signed first thing monday morning.

is he going to come? No. No way. I can go and he won't be there.

He's showed up! Damn. He's in flip flops. Alright everybody, on your bikes! (everyone climbs on two person banana seat bikes, one wrapping their arms around each other.) Wait, bikes? I thought I'd just skip that and sit on the beach. The resort is a ten mile bike trek in, or didn't you read the fine print? Together or separate? Separate, they both say.

He's lagging behind. She's loving it. His flip flop gets caught in the spokes and he swerves off the trail and flips over his handlebars and into the jungle. She looks back concerned, but then keeps riding as he gets up.

She waits outside at the resort, watching where he should be coming through the trees. He doesn't and she goes back out looking for him. She finds him walking barefoot in the jungle, ouching and ooching.