5/5/12
Flash Fiction
Blue Raspberry
All of her
senses were heightened as the breeze tickled her face and lifted her hair from her
cheeks. The brilliant shade of inky blue
intrigued her. She let her mind
wander. A wispy tendril of white floated
into view. It twisted and swirled into
a shape that resembled something akin to an ice cream cone. The breeze picked up again. Whistling, it brushed against her lips and
she imagined what the sky would taste like. Blue raspberry, her taste buds
screamed. The tendril of white turned into a pile of white. It gracefully moved in front of the sun and
engulfed her into darkness. She was
reminded of her grandfather’s visit to the States. His hand covering her eyes. The shattering of the glass, cascading down
the wall. Her parents voices echoing in
her ears. And then her grandfather,
taking her hand. Pulling her down the
street towards the nearest convenience store and offering her a blue raspberry
slushie.
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