(Flash Friday: Every other Friday, I’ll share a flash fiction story and the prompt that spawned it.)
Source: This prompt came from a page in this workbook, which I highly recommended.
Prompt: Begin a story with the following sentences: “I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time that’s fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I get homesick for places I’ve never been. Places like”.
I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time that’s fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I get homesick for places I’ve never been. Places like the wide wheat fields of Hyrule, the pixelated sea of Goldenrod City, Sylvarant’s cozy towns, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, or my farm in Stardew Valley. As much of a homebody as I am, if a train pulled up and offered to take me to any of these places, I’m sure I’d step on board. Growing up as the weird, bookish loner, these places were as much home to me as anywhere else. I still visit them now and then, dusting off old disks and pages and letting my imagination take me there as best as it can. Even if my favorite destinations only come to life in my head, they change the color of the real world. They reawaken my wonder.
Still, once place stands out to me the most – the castle where I made myself a Prince. I excelled in all my classes there and learned so many delightful things. I was whatever I wanted to be. I was a storyteller who hypnotized my audience with every word, I was a singer who lit up the stage and a dancer who blazed through the ballroom, I was a chef and my guests came from miles away for a bite of my food. I knew the answer to every question I was asked. I met all kinds of friends who became part of me. I was loved, wise, unafraid.
So, why is this place the one I haven’t visited? Perhaps it’s because it has no disc, no pages, no pictures. Somehow, as I grew up, I convinced myself that I couldn’t go there anymore. That it was gone. But how can that be when the castle itself is me? Perhaps it’s time I go back and become a king.
I watch the birds a moment longer, then close my eyes.
If you write your own story with this prompt, feel free to post it in the comments!