Day 24 : The Truth is…

I hate butterflies.

I know they are seen as a symbol of “new life” or “new beginnings” but I look at them and see the ugly truth covered up by a pretty mask. They still have ugly bug bodies under those wings. They are still creepy bugs.

You can’t always trust something/someone who puts on a pretty show. It’s what’s hidden underneath that counts.

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“The truth is” – A daily post where I share a truth. It could be something personal, it could be something funny, or something totally random…you never know what you are going to get.

Sometimes I just feel like putting things out there…and here seemed like the best place to do it.

Truth Silences Lies – Flash Fiction (WIN!)

I entered a 110 word story in Micro Bookends 1.31 last Thursday and, to my surprise, I won first place! This is my first win in a flash fiction contest! There were a lot of great stories and I feel blessed and honored that my story spoke to him. Click here to see the other amazing stories and click here to see the stories that placed. I want to give special thanks to Dave for hosting the Micro Bookends and for judging this round. I have enjoyed entering stories over the past few months. His contest, among a few others, helps me keep up a writing habit as I try hard to improve my craft.

The prompt this week was to write a 100 word story (+/- 10) that starts with the word face and ends with book and incorporates the photo. Here is my winning story! (Sorry for the gloat, I’m just so excited!)

Photo Credit: Maurizio Costanzo via CC.

Photo Credit: Maurizio Costanzo via CC.

 Truth Silences Lies

“Face yourself,” The voice said. Cynthia looked in the mirror, “You’re hideous.”

She believed it. Her swollen eyes glared back at her, puffy from sobbing. Her hair, frayed yarn, looked as though it had been dragged through wet sand.

“No one could love you,” the loud voice hissed.

“I love you.” A still small voice whispered in the distance. Cynthia didn’t hear it.

“What did you eat today?” The loud voice filled her mind, gaining volume to attack the truth.

“You are beautiful,” the small voice sang.

Cynthia shook her head.

“COW!”

“Beauty. Precious. DAUGHTER.”

Cynthia wept.

“Fear not my child, for I have written your name in my book.”

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Here is what Dave had to say about my story.

“A figurative sword fight between the voice that tells you you are worthless and the voice that tells you you are everything. So often the former is dominant and we hear about too many young people who have ended up in trouble, or worse, after failing to live up to what is perceived as an acceptable body-type. The conflict between the voices is maintained throughout the story and I found myself willing Cynthia to hear the little voice. I love the description early in the piece: “her hair, frayed yarn, looked as though it had been dragged through wet sand.” On first reading I assumed that the quiet voice had won and Cynthia had been rescued with her name in the book. On subsequent readings I began to wonder. What is the truth and what is the lie? To us the truth is that Cynthia is beautiful, but to her it is that she is hideous. The final line says to me that body image issues are difficult to beat, and once your name is in the book, you have a long battle ahead of you.”