literature

The Absent Seven FFM22

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Literature Text

One might say Jace was obsessed. His sister jeered that he was a fangirl. Jace, however, claimed he was an enthusiast. That was one way to say it. Band posters plastered Jace’s walls. Every CD The Absent Seven  recorded was stacked in alphabetical order next to the radio. Jace lay on his bed, headphones blaring, staring at the ceiling. He was relistening to his favorite underground recording of theirs. No one knew of it except him because he was there when they played it. It was an experimental song never to be released. He had recorded it despite the warnings at the beginning of the song that there wasn’t any recording devices or cameras allowed. Anything for good music, right?

The song ended, and his phone binged. It was the special ringtone he set for the band’s newsletter. He rolled onto his stomach, praying that it was the release of the tour dates.

It was! He scrolled down, scanning for any California dates. None! Zero! He groaned and pressed his face. They weren’t coming to the West Coast at all. Jace looked at the rest of the dates. Massachusetts was the closest he could get to see them live again. He frowned. Didn’t he have a cousin in Massachusetts?

“Mom! Can I go to Massachusetts?” he called down the stairs.

Jace's mom was a hippie: blonde dreads, tie dye, the whole deal. Jace was her first-born, number-one in independence of the six of them: Jace, Petal, Rosie, Lillian, Camjen, and Pressure. Occasionally, she'd let Petal or Rosie or even Lillian visit northern California, but it was only Jace who she allowed to go out-of-state on a regular basis. He went to Oregon to visit a family friend or Arizona to see his father. But she had never let him go as far as Massachusetts.  

"It's in America!" he added for good measure.

"kaaaay brother, go for it. You got money."

The concert date was the fourth of July. He could get a plane departing at 3:00am July third. It was midnight, July third today, and he started packing right off. He wouldn't forget his eyeliner.

The plane ride was easy. He got to his gate on time, his duffel qualified as a carry-on, and the overhead compartment wasn’t unruly. He settled into his seat next to a sweaty obese man and didn’t cringe in the least. Nothing could ruin this.

Except for a freak accident at the gate in Massachusetts. The plane had run out of fuel in the middle of the runway, and the airport had run out of fuel just as they entered. It was a perfect disaster. Jace panicked. The concert was the next day, sure, but he needed to go now. At the time he purchased the plane ticket, he didn’t have quite enough money for the concert ticket too. He figured he would grab a seat the day before the show because seats didn’t matter at this venue. Everyone went to the pit.

Then he spotted a golf cart. Leaping out of his seat, he shoved past the sweaty man to his right and popped open the overhead compartment. He grabbed his duffel and dashed to the front of the plane.

A flight attendant blocked his way. “Please sit down sir, we’ll get this fixed as soon as possible. We need you to be patient.” She flashed an ingenuine smile.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need to get out of here.” He pushed past her and reached the plane door. The stairs weren’t set up yet.

One thing Jace's mom hadn't prepared him for was the reality of planes, and as a result, Jace wasn't aware of the security breaches he was causing; he didn't understand that him trying to get off that plane could look like he was someone who had just dropped a bomb in a compartment and wanted out.

The security boarded, and, panicking, Jace leapt out of the plane, slamming against the concrete. He stuck his arms out to break the fall, and he heard a snap coming from both of his wrists. More security flooded in, golf carts surrounding him. He was helped into one, and he blacked out on the way back to the airport.

Jace awoke in a hospital room the next day. Everything was white and linen, the nurses carried clipboards, and there was a TV screen set up in front of his bed. Policemen surrounded his bed, watching the screen. The news anchor was discussing the plane incident, and Jace cringed. The Absent Seven wasn’t worth this. The policeman chuckled and pointed at the body falling out of the plane door. “Hey, kid! That’s you! You’re on TV.”

Jace groaned and rolled over. He ignored the TV until a familiar phrase caught his attention: “The Absent Seven”. He sat straight up and listened. Maybe he could catch a portion of their set!

“The Absent Seven had a Fourth of July concert last night, but it doesn’t scream independence, at least for this man.” The camera panned to the sirens and a figure being shoved into the backseat. “On this unfortunate night, a man, hyped up on the concert, fired three shots in the air. Little did he know, what goes up must come back down, and three people found bullets falling out of nowhere. Two people were injured, and one died.”

Jace laid back down and smiled. He was glad he had two fractured wrists and not a bullet in the brain.
Sorry this took so long to upload! I collaborated with PrettyOrangeMonster on this one, and we took the challenge.

Element ONE: COLLABORATION:- Your story must be written with one or two other people.  It is up to you how you organise this.  You still have 1000 words per piece maximum (and 55 words minimum) so bear that in mind. Perhaps one person will write a response to the other person's piece (so you end up with two or three individual but linked pieces), or perhaps you'll take it in turns to write sections of the same piece.  Perhaps you'll all write the piece together in a mind-merge state.  Either way, you'll need to meet up with your flash ficcin' partner(s).  The usual FFM Chatroom has been knocked through, propped up, and we've had an extension built with TWO EXTRA collab rooms for your use, imaginatively titled Room 1 andRoom 2
Element TWO: JOURNEY:-Your story must feature a journey between places that you and your collaborative partner(s) either live now or have once lived - one place each.  Not feeling so fancy now, are you, groups of three?  So if you live in LA and your collab partner lives in Iceland, your story or stories have to get you from one to the other.  This is about drawing on your experiences to create a sense of place.  In a small number of words.
Element THREE: METHOD OF TRANSPORT:- Your story must feature at least one non-standard method of transport.  What counts as standard?  That's up to you.
Element FOUR: FOR raspil<3:- NO ADVERBS.  Yup, I saved the best until last.  How did that pedalo get you across the Atlantic?  Well, you can't say it got you there slowly, but the slowness ought to be pretty obvious to the reader anyway.  You might want to get your partner to check your piece for stray adverbs.  They're sneaky little things.

EDIT: HappyHS found some evil adverbs that slipped in. Boo Adverbs
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JWA2277's avatar
interesting
on behalf of :iconwriters--club: 2-8 for September

Serendipity, modern evens, folly of youth: Three elements of this story that make it both thought provoking, humorous, and tragic. The work is a masterful combination of all of these elements creating a marvel short story. This grabbed my attention and held it from beginning to end. I don't know of many mothers this flexible in child care in these modern days, but the events are believable and realistic. Making note of the security breach was a marvelous "lantern" allowing for an elegant flow of thought and ease of reading. Continuity of the subject was excellent. The caricatures were dimensional and believable, having an instant association with the reader. Recommendation: Perhaps a follow up could be the perspective of the  Jolly Gentleman Jace sat next to on the plane and how he got there, and what the security breach did to his plans.



SIDE NOTE::iconlovelorey: yep you were right.

:iconsaltwaterlungs: this was excellent work, I recommend the :iconwriters--club: to you and please... keep writing!