Here I am again, enthralled by the Flash Fiction Challenge given by Chuck Wendig. This week he wanted us to write about the end of a long journey. The idea came quick, but took some time to winnow down to the 1,479 words you see here.
Chuck Wendig issued a challenge (he does almost every week) and this week I decided to take him up on it. This month’s challenge: one-word titles. I let my “executive decision makers” (dice) choose for me. Here we go:
I love a good unreliable narrator. I know, I’m weird that way. My classmates way back in high school made that perfectly clear.
I am not a mom. I have no plans to be a mom. I’m an aunt. My mother ran a daycare in our home for as long as I can remember. So I do have some experience with children. Just not any of my own. They go home at the end of the day, or weekend or whatever.
Once upon a time, and not so very long ago, humans relied on stories to make sense of the world. Fairy tales, folk tales, epic poetry, novels, movies and histories in all their forms tell us what to make of the world. We know this, at some instinctive level, so we tell our kids stories to help them learn. We are, to a greater extent, of the impression that we grow out of that.