Micro-Flash Fiction Winner
Darn kids. Where were his safety glasses?
Vulcan stomped around while The Hound of Hades slept on the floor by the forge, two heads snoring while the other followed his movements with perfunctory interest. The wife insisted he wear the googles in the forge, but it irked his image as the almighty God of Fire. He might as well be using asbestos gloves. She was right, though, and that rankled the worst.
Cecrops had brought the granddaughters over for supper yesterday. Venus loved seeing them, the imps. They’d been playing around the forge, now his glasses had gone missing and he had an order.
Dad had called that morning needing ten lightning bolts in time for Arletta Johnson’s wedding on Saturday at the First Baptist Church of McCalla. Evidently Arletta’s mother’s prayer chain for clement weather had been somewhat lacking, and Dad was pissed. He’d gotten fussy in his old age—it used to be a sacrificed goat and a few dancing vestal virgins would get you clear skies and a dew point in the 40’s.
The granddaughters had taken the dog for a walk in Red Mountain Park after supper, Vulcan remembered. He climbed down and retraced the path they would have taken along the summit and sure enough, there were his spectacles where the girls had dropped them.
He climbed back onto his pedestal as the sun rose over Birmingham, the rays glinting off Electra down in the city.
She winked at Vulcan. Vulcan winked back.
Marina Reznor, a recent transplant to Hoover, Alabama, is an independent contemporary fiction author known for her Kingsbury Town Football Club Romance Series. Last year Marina published her first non-fiction work, Dad’s War, a pictorial story of her father’s experience in World War II as a US Army medical photographer. It tells, for the first time, the engrossing story of the US Army’s critical mission to find enough whole blood in Great Britain to make D-Day a success.
Visit Marina at her website, https://marinareznor.com.