Round Robin Blog Fest December 16 2023
Happy Holidays!This time around, we were asked to take a shot at Flash fiction. Flash fiction is anything between 500 words and 1500 words. We were limited to holiday themes - not just Christmas, but any holiday we all might be celebrating at this time of the year. Variety is definitely the spice of the season!
My piece comes in around 800 words and I cheated a little! I've just released a short story in an anthology called A Prob-llama of a Holiday. The story is called Visions of Gumdrop and features a PI named Dash Allman who teams up with a drama llama named Gumdrop. Rather than create a whole new piece - here's the cheat part - I've dropped in the first part of the story. Where Dash meets Gumdrop.
By Diane Bator
JimmyBuffett had just started crooning about Christmas in Hawaii when I got a text urgingme to “Stay indoors until further notice. Escaped animal on the loose.”
Mystomach lurched and I shot a quick reply to the sender, my on-again off-againboyfriend, Rob Gwynn who was a local police officer. “What kind of animal?”
Ididn’t wait for a reply. It was the last Saturday morning before Christmas andthe local market would be in full swing in fifteen minutes. No way was Imissing it. I had shopping to do. Besides, no one would be dumb enough to transporta dangerous creature this close to a populated beach, would they?
Iopened my front door anyway. After looking both ways for large, furry beastsand witches on rollerblades, then stepped into the sunshine and locked thefront door of my beach cottage-slash-office. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve beena curious cat, which made me an ideal detective. Not the best one money couldbuy, but definitely in the top one hundred on the coast.
Definitely,the only one with the oddball name of Dash.
The joke in my family was that my mom fellin love with Dashiell Hammett at first sight, which made child hood rough forthe little girl she named Dashiell Allman. Not funny. Although, the nicknameDash did make me feel faster when I ran. People tended to call me out ofcuriosity since my name made me sound like a strong, male detective.
Once they met me in person — a short,blonde, beach bum usually sporting a cast of some sort — some ran. Most laughed.A few took pity on me.
Crossingthe beach, I aimed for the wet sand where the waves could caress my toes on myway to Ricardo’s food truck. I woke up craving a Breakfast Dog. My growlingstomach finally got the best of me as I’d finished the paperwork from my lastcase. Visions of cheese, a hot dog, a hashbrown, tomato, bacon, and a friedegg, over easy had danced through my head for the past hour.
Theair was a bit cooler than earlier in December. A reminder that I still neededto pick up gifts for my two favorite police officers.
RobGwynn, aka Officer Athletic and my current boyfriend, was big into actionmovies, working out, and muscle cars. I still wasn’t sure what to get him.
AlexCarson, his partner and the man I’d called Officer Pasty for years, was easier.He was a foodie who loved to cook. A couple of weeks ago, I’d discovered agreat booth at the market that sold homemade spices and rubs. I’d finallydecided which ones to get him and planned to hit the market. Right afterbreakfast.
Somethingwet brushed against the back of my right shoulder. I brushed it off like a bug.Then it tapped me again.
“Veryfunny, Rob,” I said as I stopped to turn around. “What the…?”
Myjaw dropped and my eyes grew wide as I came face to face with an elongated noseattached to a furry creature that looked like a cross between a horse and atall sheep.
Itsnostrils flared before phlegm hit me square in the chest. Then it yelled“Mwah!” and collapsed into the sand.
“Whatthe flying fig just happened?” I took a couple steps back.
“Whatdid you do to it?” a familiar voice asked.
Oncue, Rob and Alex loped across the beach, more concerned about the creaturethan the fact I’d been accosted.
Iheld up my hands in protest. “Nothing. It just fell over. I don’t even knowwhat it is.”
“It’sa llama, Dash,” Alex told me with a chuckle. “Didn’t you learn anything inschool?”
Scowlingat the two-hundred and fifty pound officer, I shook my head. “I’ve seenpictures of them, but I’ve never looked one in the nostrils before. What’s itdoing on the beach?”
Roblooped a rope around its neck, flinching when the llama rolled away from him tosit in the sand. “It’s part of the petting zoo at the market today. While thefarmer was unloading the animals, this little guy escaped.”
“Little?That thing’s a full head taller than you and smells like a barnyard.”
Hegrinned, petting the creature like an overgrown dog. “Aww, did the grumpydetective scare you, Gumdrop?”
“Ha.The grumpy detective nearly peed her pants.” I took one last look at the llama.If I were a social media-type person, I would’ve taken pictures. No one in myfamily would believe I came face to face with a llama, let alone one thatfainted on the spot.
Foreveryone else who knew me, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.
Like what you read? You can find Visions of Gumdrop in A Prob-llama of a Holiday by Aconite Press at: Amazon.com Amazon.ca
Drop by to read what the rest of the talented Blog Fest Gang wrote!Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-35i
Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/
Diane Bator https://dbator.blogspot.com/
Anne Stenhouse http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com
Judith Copek http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/
Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog
Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
