So I have finally finished writing and collecting pictures for the flash fiction.

Two or three weeks ago I asked for topic suggestions, several of you were kind enough to volunteer one, here are the results.

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Irradiated molecules of an unknown origin danced together. Before the blast they had lurked unnoticed under the bed of a teenager in the Pocono's, now they were far more sinister than a collection of dust. Neglect that had allowed them to grow to such an unusual size would be regretted, but it was too late.

In stunned disbelief he looked around. The last thing he recalled was shutting his Mac™ down for the night, letting the dogs back in and then going to bed. He was in a frighteningly different world. Suddenly, with a chill, he recognized a voice. "There you are, Mr. Dog. Let's see this doll-wooing in person!"

Fragrant breezes invited her to open her helmet. A moment later a dark shape sped toward her face and she heard the buzzing of an annoyed bee. Chanting her all-purpose mantra she eased off the throttle, "Be cool, just be cool." There was no shoulder on the road and a truck loomed in the mirrors.
The intricately wrought frame hung on a burgundy wall across from the brass bed. It was a picture of her hopes and dreams, she longed for this future. The darkness of the past and the pressures of the present receded as she promised herself this was coming. The empty frame soothed her like nothing else.
Her nose wrinkling in distaste she ripped open the bag and emptied its contents into a bowl. Sheesh, she thought to herself, the things she did for her friends! Oh well, at least there would be tea, coffee and scones to enjoy. If it would make her guests feel more comfortable she could endure Funyuns™.
"We called these Clementines, remember?" she asked.
"We did?" the boy asked.
"Oh yes, go play this video, you'll see."
Then she heard the sound of plastic cracking. Turning she saw two stunned faces, one had been swinging a globe and smashed the tape. Her memories of those recorded images were now all that remained.

Checking surreptitiously to be sure he was unobserved he slipped the camera into his messenger bag. The child's birthday request had been fortuitous; he'd been wanting a digital camera for some time. Now he would finally be able to capture it on film. Proof that Satan rode Seattle Transit and he drooled in his sleep.

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Happy weekend everyone!

If you leave me a topic in the comments I will write you a 55... eventually.