A bit like an advent calendar, as today is 4th December, I bring you a piece of flash fiction I posted on the 4th of the month back in May 2013…
Back in late April 2011, I discovered http://StoryADay.org and the project that is to write 31 stories in 31 days. Anyone who knows me or follows this blog, knows how passionate I am about short stories so my clichéd eyes lit up at this new marvel. And just a few days later there I was, breathing life into new characters. This went on to become (with some editing of course) my 31-story collection eBook Story A Day May 2011.
I was nearing completion of the 2012 project when I decided that I didn’t want to stop at the end of May so 5PM Fiction was born. This was then on hold this month as I wrote a story a day for Story a Day May 2013. The 4th May’s prompt was to write a fictional obituary. Below is my 544-worder and for a change, I went for science-fiction.
RIP Lenny ‘Shades’ Froug
Characters as colourful as Lenny ‘Shades’ Froug don’t come along very often and the world is most certainly a darker place without him.
Born Leonard Dennis Froug on the 4th of May 2013, the only son to Dennis Froug Snr and Lillian Froug neé Smith, of Northamptonshire, England, Lenny ignored fashion trends, wearing stripes with spots, snakeskin with floral, and neon with nylon. He earned his nickname not by the sunglasses he wore – he loved direct contact with the sun – but by those worn by the people around him on his particularly colourful days.
As soon as he could talk, Leonard Jnr told his parents that he only had a limited time to live and wanted to fill it with as many experiences as he could. Being an only child, he was not short of love and attention, forming the easy-going personality that endeared him to everyone he met.
As a child, he would venture into his father’s shed, help with Dennis Snr’s experiments and soon he was trying his own, with success, leading him to ultimately find the cure to the common cold, all strains of cancer known to man, and some unknown, and why the underneath of a yoghurt pot lid always falls the wrong side down (gravital proportion to the square coverage of surface area on each side).
With those achievements, all before the age of 12, under one’s belt – in his case, a skinny Rattlesnake – some would then have taken a step back and settle into a more normal life, but Lenny would regularly be spotted jetting off to war-torn countries where he would take over the peace negotiations and bring them to a satisfactory conclusion – the Gaza Strip now a nature reserve, to parched and famished African countries where he would dance his version of a rain dance, powerful enough to whip up the fiercest of rainstorms, filling the Froug Developments’ wells deep enough to last the rest of the century.
One of many figments of English writer, Morgen Bailey’s imagination, who herself is famous for killing off many of her characters, she and Leonard had a short (544-word), but endearing relationship and Ms Bailey is quoted as saying, “I wish I could have known Lenny better. Maybe I’ll bring him back to life in a later story.”
Those who knew Lenny, are devastated by his early demise and are, at the time of this item going to press, raising funds for his return.
Lenny leaves behind his parents, Dennis and Lillian, and a hamster called ‘Pixie’.
The memorial service will be held on 14th May 2013 at the Chapel in the grounds of the Leonard Froug Garden on Mars’ Fourth Quadrant, near to the florescent rock pools that Lenny loved so much. A free shuttle bus will be available from all UK airports, where Lenny was a season ticket holder, and Mr and Mrs Froug welcome attendees back to their home, Froug Mansions, which Lenny bought them with the money he received from his seventeenth Nobel Prize.
Those attending are forbidden from wearing black, including underwear – security guards have been instructed to check – and a disco will be held after the service in stretch marquees in the grounds of his home – formerly known as Buckingham Palace – until ‘late’.
Picture above courtesy of morguefile.com.
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