Here’s my latest submission for Flash Friday based on the photo prompt. The story had to include a blunder.


Everyone makes mistakes. Some are bigger than others. This was one of those bigger ones.

So Jerry ran, ran for his sorry-ass life.

It had been dark. Very dark, and cold.

Then it was bright. Very bright, and hot.

The desert, he knew, was a place of forgiveness and believe you me, Jerry asked for it, and then some.

He needed lots of forgiveness. More, probably, than most.

He’d change. He’d been arrogant.

He would, he really would. He’d be good.

He promised. He’d been prideful.

Jerry never much prayed to God, but that day he did, and then some. He needed to in the land where you have to lose your life to find it. Jerry was already lost.

Life was always a horizon away.

He more than deserved the sunburn he knew he’d get. God would chap his ashen Irish hide.

Sometimes mistakes, they kill, and when they do you run. He’d already run a long time and figured he’d covered a good distance, but when you run up and down dunes one after the other after the other you don’t get as far as you think.

He’d learn later the newspapers named the one who made this particular mistake (most would call it a blunder) “The Ripper.”

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