As some of you know, I have an ongoing love for FlashFiction aka Fiction you can read in a flash – I’ve written some that are as short as a tweet, and some up to 500 words. In the world of FlashFiction contests – It’s not just writing, it’s a puzzle, it’s trying to tell a story that contains a prompt, or is inspired by a prompt – I was exposed to these micro-stories growing up and until I started my foray into flash I tended towards epic sagas – but this one still gives me chills – and won ThursThreads – 9th Anniversary Edition.
And so, I present to you…
As I escape into the indigo, my afterburners trace my path and I can breathe again. I don’t belong on the ground. Some people need the greens of growing things, the browns of fertile earth, the green people, the grounders.
Its funny how we can look at the same thing and see something very different. People have claimed colors for their causes and used them to draw political lines but for me, the colors we choose are the colors of our worlds.
The blue people like the oceans and the skies, the greensmen like the growing world of earth, the gray and gold are drawn to the cities, that grow up between the blue and the green worlds. Worlds between worlds within worlds
Worlds of sand and snow. Worlds of fire and cool winds. They are beautiful, but I am bound to the indigo of space. Alone I chart my course, traveling to worlds of ice, and chemical mixes that would eat the paint off of their ivory towers. They call me a pariah because I can’t live in their world. I don’t belong there any more than they belong in mine. But I will always welcome them.
The call of space is in my veins and I was born with stardust in my eyes. Stars are born and die out here, and no matter how many times I leave, it takes me back, as it always does.
They say I’m just a pilot, but I am so much more.