Slice of Life for March 13, 2025 (11:24-11:55) by Barb Edler

Whenever I can, I participate in writing battles. I love the challenge as each writer has only a small window of time to develop a narrative based on particular cards. Recently, I entered the winter flash fiction battle. Now, I keep double checking my email, hoping I will find out the results from this latest battle.

My predetermined cards dictate the genre, an object and character type. My recent drawn cards included the revenge theme, a doll, and a follower. I enjoyed writing this story, I titled “Shock and Awe” but since it is a thousand words, I wanted to share a different story I wrote last summer for the nano fiction battle, a 250-word narrative.

For this story, I had to write a social commentary that included a whistle and a visionary. I actually received an honorable mention in this battle which is the highest honor I have ever received as a writing battler. If you’re still reading my post, I hope you’ll enjoy it. Warning: School Shooting.

Please Listen

Karen watched her daughter’s red ponytail swing with indignation as she flounced out the door. This morning’s quarrel was particularly difficult. Daphne woefully begged, “Mommy, please don’t make me go to school. I just know something terrible is going to happen. I feel it.  Remember the last time I warned you? Please listen!”

“Daphne, darling, you’re just getting yourself upset. Stop fussing. Nothing terrible is going to happen at the very best school in the city,” Karen cooed. “Remember you’ve got your whistle.”

Now, Karen reconsidered. Remember you’ve got your whistle. Why did she want to convince her daughter a whistle could protect her from trouble? Daphne’s premonitions were part of losing her father. Weren’t they? Surely her private neighborhood school was safe, one she could only afford because of the voucher system. Besides, she had to be at work today or risk losing her job. No one considered the difficulties she encountered raising her daughter alone.

Twenty minutes later, Karen was ready for work. As she opened her door, she heard sirens and her next-door neighbor shrieking, “Something happened at the school.” 

Karen dropped her bag and ran. As she neared the school, she saw a throng of panicked parents barricaded from the premises. 

Later, grief-stricken, she picked up her daughter’s possessions. “She was holding this,” a woman whispered. Remembering Daphne’s pleas and premonition, Karen numbly took her daughter’s special whistle, lifted it to her lips, and blew it with all her might as her knees dissolved beneath her.