I got the go-ahead to share my 100-word microfiction story!! The assignment was to write a story that includes chasing something (however you want to interpret the concept of chasing something) and the word “grow”. It can be in any genre(s). I had one brave guesser (shout-out to Jewish Young Professional!) on my guess-my-genre post, and she was wrong but close. My primary genre was… drumroll, please… sci-fi.
Here’s the story. (The title isn’t counted in its word count.)
On the Wings of a Death
While I’m piloting my biplane, the infinitude soothes my wounds.
The funeral was predictable but tough. He was a decent man, everyone said—lucky to have me.
A disc-shaped craft shimmers up above, its seductive exhaust smelling exactly like his cigars. It zips away, heavenward. I chase it, straining the wings.
I’m losing oxygen, like when he drunkenly lifted me by the neck. “Won’t amount to nothing,” he growled.
The flight controller screams through my headphones, but I push higher, aching. Longing. Choking. Can’t breathe. Closer. I smell him.
All-encompassing warmth. Sticky tears.
“Dad, I always loved you.”
Here’s hoping! The frustrating thing is that I can’t go to the forum and read everyone else’s entries. But this is in my own best interest, since it’s been proven that I can’t handle forums. [I’m making faces at myself.] And my inability to handle forums isn’t something I want to overcome. Just avoid, actually.
This story was based on a true story. When my dad was in high school, he had a friend whose dad had disappeared while in his plane one day, chasing a UFO. There’s a whole Wikipedia article about it. I haven’t read it recently, but one of the pilot’s sons was my dad’s classmate. If my math is right (my dad was born in 1945), then the boy was two or three when his dad died this way. Fascinating.