My latest in the Micro Bookends weekly flash fiction contest wherein you respond to the above photo prompt courtesy of Matt Brown and write 110 words max in between the bookends (BEAT) and (GENERATION), respectively. My entry:
Beat the muse. That’s what my writing teacher, Mr. H, said daily in that back alley of a classroom. Lit by the streetlamp, brick for chalkboard and we wrote on the back of goddamn cheeseburger wrappers with whatever we could find.
The teacher was another one of us with a similar story; he followed the tracks on his arms instead of the ones in his head. He ought to have been weaving tales for Harvard grads, not proofreading Don’s perpetual misspelling of “hierarchy” next to, “Choose lovin’!”
But alas, we wrote like fiends producing heaps and heaps of wrappers.
We were a fiery underground, waiting to ignite a new generation.
