This is my short short story inspired by the Flash Fiction Challenge created by Chuck Wendig, author of the blog “Terribleminds” and much more. The challenge was to use your largest music collection, or Spotify, or in my case I used Pandora, and shuffle all songs by all artists. The title of the first song that comes up is your story title, then write a story with 500 words or less…
My song was Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing,” and this is the result.
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Little Wing
After his daughter led him on the meandering walk to see the zebras, elephants, giraffes, and everything between, only one wooden bench remained unoccupied by the tired parents and grandparents of the zoo. It was the one in the mid-afternoon sun, painted yellow and sticky from something some kid had spilled. Sitting on it made him want a cold beer.
His daughter flew, without flinching, into in the little water playground. Cold sprays and clouds of mist attracted every child who walked by. The water shot out of blue, yellow, green, and red metal tubes that curved into a little jungle of twisted shapes.
Dozens of children swarmed the misty fountains, reminding him of an indoor exhibit of butterflies they had seen that morning. These spikey blue flowers that had been labeled “bachelor’s buttons” had attracted the largest flurry of bright colored wings.
He watched her perfect, skinny little muscles pump, jump, and climb. She squealed every time she touched the spray.
Her mother had bought a “family” seasonal pass for the zoo, as she did every year. Earlier that morning, when he went to pick up his daughter for the day, the mother handed the pass to him, knowing he had no better ideas for entertaining a five-year-old girl.
She was probably right.
“What are you going to do for her lunch?” she asked him from the front doorway. He stepped back down a step from the stoop.
“I have a twenty,” he said, struggling to act friendly.
“Well, well, well…your parents sure are being generous today.” The mother’s eyes strangled him with disdain.
When he had gotten that twenty-dollar bill last night, from his dad, he considered seeing who was working at the bar. One-dollar drafts went a long way, and most bartenders gave him a couple for free. He had been proud of himself for resisting the temptation.
He stared down at his daughter, who was putting on her little pink sandals near the house, careful to control his voice. “My mother saw my picture on the child support poster at the BMV,” he said. “How long ago did you do that?”
It was the mother’s turn to shift her eyes down at her daughter, who had just finished with her sandals, “Sometime after Christmas. It was a shitty Christmas.”
“I remember.”
Sometimes he did not resist temptations.
But that twenty-dollar bill was still in his pocket, crumpled with the zoo pass and his keys.
His daughter ran back to him with a smile as big as could be. Her purple shirt with a fairy silhouetted against a moon was damp, and her bare arms and face were dripping with more than just little-girl sweat.
“Feeling better?” He wanted to run through the mist too.
“Yes, Daddy!” She gave him a hug, leaving a wet spot on his chest. Then she pointed at a big yellow umbrella nearby and asked, “Can I have a Lemon Squeezy?”
“Sure, anything you want,” he said, glad there were no beer vendors at the zoo. “Then we’ll get some food.”
She ran on ahead, shouting, “You’re the best dad ever!”
She was probably wrong, but he smiled.
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Little Wing
Well she’s walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that’s running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That’s all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.
When I’m sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It’s alright she says it’s alright
Take anything you want from me,
Anything.
Fly on little wing,
Yeah yeah, yeah, little wing
-Jimi Hendrix
