On summer afternoons you can smell the homeless. An aggressive funk of shit and cheap wine; a fermenting stench, growing in neglect and heat.
On early Autumn evenings you see the dirty false sunsets as barrel fires bleed a spurting orange glow. Drunks ripen in booze around these trash candles; sharing heat, misery, oblivion.
Winter nights bring a harvest of the unhomed. The unprotected poor perish; exposed to weather, to indifference. Frost glitters under street-lights, the sparkle of broken glass and dead eyes.
Spring morning-time; for renewal, for replanting. A fresh crop of homeless take root, nourished by the bottle.
100 words.
THAT’S RIGHT – IT’S TIME FOR FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!
Well, I’m guessing there isn’t too much mystery about the inspiration to this week’s story. Not sure if it’s got a beginning, middle, and end to it, but I think it’s reasonably well polished otherwise. I have had a few beers though, so I might be completely deluded.
As always, very interested in what you have to say – let me know what you think.
Check here for the other stories (and maybe give your own a try).
Cheers
KT
Uncertain Tales 
There is no beginning or end, just a circle of despair that you painted so well.
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Thanks – very kind 🙂
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Really well written. I love how down and dirty it is. Very refreshing. Like a cold beer on a humid afternoon. Just… one… more… sip.
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Hi, KT. I like the way you use the seasons here as your framework. The piece strikes me more as prose poetry than flash fiction, but you can consider that a compliment.
There are a few places I think this could be polished to make it shine even brighter:
1. I would change “In summer afternoons” to “On summer afternoons.”
2. The same with “In early autumn evenings.”
3. In your third paragraph, you’ve used the word “exposed” twice. I like to stay away from this kind of repetition in pieces this short. Unsheltered, naked, unprotected, uncovered and laid bare are all possible alternatives.
What I do like is your rich imagery. Paragraph 2 is my favorite because of the way you describe the trash can fires. I also like the way that I can’t really tell from this what your stance is on the homeless. You are describing a scene–four scenes, actually–but refrain from judgement or pity. That makes this unique. Well done.
All my best,
Marie Gail
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Hi MG – just wanted to say thanks for the critical comments- I agree with 1 & 2 (on does sound more correct) & I’ll take 3 under advisement – I kinda like the rhythm the repetition sets up… 🙂
I’m also very happy with your analysis of ‘no judgement’ – I wanted imply those conflicting feelings many have re the homeless; simultaneous sympathy & unease.
Thanks again.
KT
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Strong piece, bleak but well written.
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Very graphic. The concept of ‘harvesting the unhomed’ in the winter is quite striking.
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Perennials that need no tending, yet with some would alter perception from weeds to crops.
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KT,
I really like this and I wouldn’t change a word. It’s raw and fragrant with despair.
Tracey
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You create quite the scene, full of flavour and grit. Well done!
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A walk through seasons with the homeless. Vivid descriptions of the sights, smells and sounds of their life culminating with their addictions of the drink. Well written … I liked it. 😄
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dirty false sunsets as barrel fires bleed a spurting orange glow – Lovely line. Your use of the seasons brought this sad tale full circle. Kudos.
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Bleak and full of despair, but very powerful. Nice!
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Dear KT,
Hard hitting, in your face piece. I particularly liked, “…exposed to weather, to indifference.” Very well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Depressingly good!
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Interesting take on this photo. Dark, but effective!
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I love your prose. I was right there in the midst of it. Beautifully written.
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What can I say that hasn’t been said. Beautifully written, excellent prose – true magic with a pen, or is that a typewriter? No, laptop, Ipad? It’s wonderful no matter the tool!
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Excellent piece! Seemed to me it was written from the perspective of someone right in the middle of it all and disgusted with how their life ended up.
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Brilliant writing. It paints a perfect mixture of compassion and revulsion, something many of us can relate to, I’m sure. The way you link their lives to the seasons also reminds us of our own remote history.
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Great use of language here. Thought provoking.
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Nice take on the prompt
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Powerful images that create just the right tone and mood. Using the cycle of seasons adds a feeling of despair – that the suffering goes on and on. I would say that you should keep on having a few beers as you write if this is the result, but I hesitate to see you join the ranks of those nourished by the bottle, and anyway, unless all your pieces are so inpired, you don’t really need it.
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