I'm writing a novella! Kinda. I'm more so just throwing some words on the page, but I can't do that without attention. Also calling this flash fiction is a little misleading. Sure some days I might only write two paragraphs, but generally you can expect a little more than that. And yes, they will be (by and large) unedited.
Tune back every weekday in February to see how this tale turns out. It'll be dumb, I'm sure. Feel free to throw suggestions at me anytime to get mentioned at the end of each chapter (if I use your idea). Enjoy!
~~~~~
Flight 427 was delayed by three hours in the hopes the snow would soon die down, but it was unlikely. Terrence didn't see any maintenance workers outside. Not even a traffic controller, or whatever the guys with the glowing sticks were called. The attendants were absent from his gate, as well. In fact, only a sleeping couple sat in his appointed area. He didn't want to waste time scrolling Twitter in case the power went out, so he sat bored for twenty minutes with his feet dangling in front of him. "I hate this."
He leaped out of his seat and started doing jumping jacks. Something had to trigger a growth spurt to restore him to his proper 6" glow. His knees started to give out around 121 jacks, so he walked over to the wall with panels he figured were about six square inches. He was still a full four finger short from clearing what must have been 5'6". Before he could try his next get-tall-quick scheme, his stomach growled. In his rush to be two hours early for his flight, he forgot to back any snacks or lunch.
There wasn't a fragrance in the air (besides stale carpet), but Terrence recalled seeing a sandwich shop on his sprint over. He reluctantly placed his carry-ons next to the sleeping couple and crept away to the sandwich shop six gates down only to find it was closed. It seemed like he would be trapped in BWI for the next four-six hours with no food. His knees felt even weaker.
"Hey shorty," a familiar voice called. "Looks like you could use these." A bag shook in their hand
Terrence turned to find a paper stand he somehow missed before. The sign didn't read Hudson News like they usually do but Metro Station. It seemed out of place, but he just wanted to see what the stranger had to offer. Once he got closer, Terrence realized the stranger was a slightly taller Penelope holding a bag of cashews.
"Penelope! I knew you couldn't be dead," he went in for a hug.
She dodged his advance. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Terrence felt rejected, by soon remembered they barely spent three minutes together before blood started spilling out of her head. It was probably just short term memory loss, but where was her bandages or better yet her wound. She looked fine. "Oops. I guess not. You just look like someone I used to know." He looked over her inventory. "Do you have anything besides nuts for sale? I'm slightly allergic."
"Too good for nuts, huh? What kind of queer are you? Naw, can't help you there," she said as she started to reach behind her.
"How did you... wait are those Pop-Tarts behind you? They are! Like a whole box of individually wrapped ones for sale."
She turned her back to Terrence. "Not happening."
"Oh come on, Penelope." He reached for his wait, I'll give you five bucks for two packs."
"Fuck you, my name's Penny."
Terrence was confused, by he didn't have time to argue over her name tag or nickname. His hunger was taking control. "Fine, five bucks for one pack."
"I said no sale." Penny started to motion to the gate above her but before she reached it Terrence jumped across the counter and grabbed a pack of Strawberry flavored Pop-Tarts. Her eyes widened as he jumped back down. "M-my favorite. Thief!"
Before Terrence can fully react, his legs started running. Behind him he heard a boom; Penny kicked her counter down to reveal a mini-cart. She rode after him, quickly gaining on him. Terrence didn't have much faith in his stunted legs, but he saw his chance to ditch a newly homicidal employee. Just before Penny can clip his heels, he reached the bridge and jumped over the ledge as she whizzes by and crashes into a stuffed bear stand.
He leaped out of his seat and started doing jumping jacks. Something had to trigger a growth spurt to restore him to his proper 6" glow. His knees started to give out around 121 jacks, so he walked over to the wall with panels he figured were about six square inches. He was still a full four finger short from clearing what must have been 5'6". Before he could try his next get-tall-quick scheme, his stomach growled. In his rush to be two hours early for his flight, he forgot to back any snacks or lunch.
There wasn't a fragrance in the air (besides stale carpet), but Terrence recalled seeing a sandwich shop on his sprint over. He reluctantly placed his carry-ons next to the sleeping couple and crept away to the sandwich shop six gates down only to find it was closed. It seemed like he would be trapped in BWI for the next four-six hours with no food. His knees felt even weaker.
"Hey shorty," a familiar voice called. "Looks like you could use these." A bag shook in their hand
Terrence turned to find a paper stand he somehow missed before. The sign didn't read Hudson News like they usually do but Metro Station. It seemed out of place, but he just wanted to see what the stranger had to offer. Once he got closer, Terrence realized the stranger was a slightly taller Penelope holding a bag of cashews.
"Penelope! I knew you couldn't be dead," he went in for a hug.
She dodged his advance. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Terrence felt rejected, by soon remembered they barely spent three minutes together before blood started spilling out of her head. It was probably just short term memory loss, but where was her bandages or better yet her wound. She looked fine. "Oops. I guess not. You just look like someone I used to know." He looked over her inventory. "Do you have anything besides nuts for sale? I'm slightly allergic."
"Too good for nuts, huh? What kind of queer are you? Naw, can't help you there," she said as she started to reach behind her.
"How did you... wait are those Pop-Tarts behind you? They are! Like a whole box of individually wrapped ones for sale."
She turned her back to Terrence. "Not happening."
"Oh come on, Penelope." He reached for his wait, I'll give you five bucks for two packs."
"Fuck you, my name's Penny."
Terrence was confused, by he didn't have time to argue over her name tag or nickname. His hunger was taking control. "Fine, five bucks for one pack."
"I said no sale." Penny started to motion to the gate above her but before she reached it Terrence jumped across the counter and grabbed a pack of Strawberry flavored Pop-Tarts. Her eyes widened as he jumped back down. "M-my favorite. Thief!"
Before Terrence can fully react, his legs started running. Behind him he heard a boom; Penny kicked her counter down to reveal a mini-cart. She rode after him, quickly gaining on him. Terrence didn't have much faith in his stunted legs, but he saw his chance to ditch a newly homicidal employee. Just before Penny can clip his heels, he reached the bridge and jumped over the ledge as she whizzes by and crashes into a stuffed bear stand.
Joe Kennedy: Liam Neeson's daughter is killed when a special Retro-Strawberry-Frosted box of Pop-Tarts causes her toaster to explode into a ball of flame, and we're in for an action packed ride, as he stops at nothing to avenge her, take out Kellogg's henceman who are trained in an un-named sugary martial art, inspired by Aikido, explosions to his back and bullets to his front.
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