Tell us a story.
One paragraph. Four sentences, not four lines. A beginning and ending. You fill in the middle. No dialogue. It can be loving, funny, sad, even enlightening. Tag me in the comment section as: @Danceinsilence so that I can read your work. Winner will receive The Flash Fiction Award Certificate ... and as always, I will start this off
She died everyday in a house made of cards. And with every gust of wind the house fell apart, which meant the little girl was always picking up the pieces, even though she too was falling apart. Drowning in a cycle of perfection, she grew tired of fighting the current of the wind; and so the house of cards remained in remains of disaster. The wind, swept her away, and it was that day that she saw, that the house of cards, was never meant to be her home.