Next Meeting August 11, 2012 at 10:30 a.m.

We'll be meeting at the Campo-Morena Village Library on Saturday, August 11th, at 10:30 a.m.  Bring something you are working on to share with the group, and writing materials for a short prompted exercise during session.

Session: July 28 2012

Text:  It was all a game to them.
Author:  PV

Now, Ewe was not normally given to the grandiose. Nibbling and scampering were the order of the day. But today brought a slice of deep memory. Buried in the interstices of coiling DNA, Ewe perceived an ancestral shadow, superimposed upon the Devonshire fog. A grandmother of all grandmothers, all softness undeveloped in this Ewe one could not forget - all because the high road was taken, spelling out the future of sheepdom. So it was a fuzzy future bordered by the necessity of foxes and lamb cutlets - it was just a game to them.

Text: Nobody can explain what happened next.
Author:  GS

Our usual breakfast was going well. Ferdinand just sucked in his bowl of oats while I ate my cornflakes and coffee. We have been coming to Flo's diner forever, and the routine is very comfortable. We always sit at our regular table in the back, and no-one complains about the occasional jostled tables or chairs as 2,000 pounds of steer lumbers by. Suddenly the lights went off and all the noise stopped. There was a loud explosion somewhere nearby. In the ensuing darkness I could sense some movement nearby but I could see nothing except a tinge of light from near the windows across the room. I whispered, "Ferdinand, are you OK?" but got no answer. A woman near the door suddenly shrieked, but quickly stopped. Other people started lighting matches which flared long enough to throw shadows which appeared ominous. After what seemed like ages but must have been only a few minutes, the lights came on and revealed a strange scene. Ferdinand had disappeared but there was a crushed table near the door with the body of a woman under it. I ran out the door but the was no sign of Ferdinand anywhere. He had completely vanished!

Text: I should have lied.
Author: BG

I was out walking the other day after a storm. I came upon a friendly gentleman and we began to chat. We talked about all sorts of things. The conversation got quite animated. I exclaimed that I was so discontent with my living situation and my house was so small and ugly and how that stinky little house was just not worth paying attention to and how I wished one of the many recent tornados would do some damage so I could collect insurance and build it more to my liking. There was a pause. He asked if I really wanted something to happen to my house. I thought a minute and then said yes. Well...I should have lied.

Text: The one thing I will never forget.
Author: CC

The day that Armand flew in from Paris will be forever etched in my mind. He was so proud of himself for making this long journey in his small plane, and we were proud of him, too, and prepared to make the necessary sacrifices. The one thing I will never forget is the clever way he smuggled the cash to us. Oh, it caused a stir when he landed his Big Wheel Cessna in the desert outside Buckhorn. We had driven out the night before and illuminated his landing path with our headlights. Later, the men decided that he would be taking Rocky Goathead's boy back with him as collateral. I snapped this picture as they were rolling for takeoff the next morning.

Hello!

We are a group of writing enthusiasts who enjoy expressing our creativity through language. Recently we've invented a little game in which we match random text with random imagery, and combine the two in a burst of flash fiction. We get together every couple of weeks for an hour or two and this work is generated within those sessions. Unedited, raw, spontaneous and dreamlike, what follows will be the results of these experiments.