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My latest in the fun weekly flash fiction contest over at Micro Bookends wherein they provide the first (CLUB) and last (FOOT) words, respectively, of your story and you provide no more than 110 words max in response to the above photo prompt provided by Brian Smithson. My entry:

Club: human; membership rejected.

I was ineligible the moment the amniotic fluid was cleared with a white terry cloth from my infant eyes.

To underscore the melodrama with which I’ve long felt as something of a birth echo, I had my cheek to the dirt unearthed from the grave of a dead man. And I was scribbling poetry with a feathered pen.

The only way to better encapsulate the dark essence that drizzled from the deepest pores of my mind would be if the moon tilted its glow my way.

Alas, it did not and worse, the ink was gone from my feathered pen.

Typical; it’d leaked on my foot.

 

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