Flash Fiction Day, 22nd June 2016. My entries.

1st one. Time: 00:25
They never did the right thing. They died.

2nd one. Time: 09.27
"One knows it's their birthday," she said.
"From what?" I asked.
"From that someone wakes you up with a happy birthday message and just when you have ended the conversation with then someone else texts you the same," she gave a laugh. "True story, bro!"

3rd one. Time: 10.15
It was a dark night as usual. But she loved going out to the meadow to see the stars. She did so every night when there weren't clouds. And nothing ever happened to her there.

So I wrote to the interviewer. The answer, the next question, came soon:
What happened that night, then? Was she killed by an animal?

"Killed by an animal". I snorted in front of my computer. Had this dumb amateur reporter not read about this case or did he write to those who had missed the headlines?

I let my fingers dash on the keyboard: Killed by an animal? No, no, no, that is too cliché, too usual. No. That night there was a meteor shower, if you didn't notice. And one of those rocks made it to the surface. It was not big but it was hot and extremely fast. It hit her through her skull and, naturally, brains.

So no. My daughter, my dear Sasha, my only child, the one to whom I invested my heart after I was left by my husband when I got pregnant, was not killed by an animal. She was killed by the space. Not by aliens, but by a goddamn tiny rock which did not feel like burning in the atmosphere like its fellows.

I checked the message. I thought of censoring but decided to leave that to the reporter. I pressed the final Enter to send the reply. I was satisfied with this. No reply came. This distant interview was over.

Two days later I saw my replies in the local newspaper known for its strictly appropriate language. As I spotted my swearword, I knew that the reporter had failed in keeping the newspaper's ideals.

I walked out to see the reporter being dragged away from his ear to the street. This was not the first time I had seen this "public shaming". But this time I had the satisfaction for seeing it. It was the dark satisfaction of seeing someone else being in trouble they had caused by themselves.

I'd be careful next time.

4th one. Time: 13.41

I was lost once. 'Twas horrible.

5th one. Time: 15.36

Warning! May contain spoilers for Star Wars: The Old Republic!

3255 BBY
"'The darkness is coming.' So they all said," Kailain said.
"That must've been awful, Master Khoon," noted Arklos Irrarr, the Shi-Sha. Ever since he had been a youngling, he had been close to this old Jedi Sage who had lived to see Darth Revan.
"It was. Every Jedi I shielded took always a bit of my life away. But that was a small thing compared to what the plague made the Jedi do," Kailain's eyes became dim as she remembered those Jedi now long-gone. The days when she had been young and powerful were far behind her. Now, as her body was weakening during her days of old age, she only had the wisdom she had earned with hard work. The Rikiosian Shi-Sha had always come to her to hear more of her wisdom. And she was happy to share it to the young.

Actually she was not sure for how long she would live anymore. The shielding those centuries ago had taken its toll on her overall health even after the whole ordeal, and she had been ill notably often after she had retired from active duty. She gave her wisdom to anyone who wanted to listen, but for this young man, part of the future of their folk, she had something more.
"Since you, Knight Irrarr, are going to go on a long mission soon," Arklos startled when he heard the wise woman tell him that, "I want to give you this just in case I pass away when you're away."

Arklos watched as Master Khoon lifted something from the desk of the living area of her quarters with the Force and pulled it to her hands. Then she gave it to Arklos. It was a holonovel named "The Heroic Rescue of Holiday", written by Tharan Cedrax.
"Tharan Cedrax and his fellow, Holiday, traveled with me during those times. Tharan, he was such a flirt, but one could easily see that his heart beat truly to Holiday and Holiday only," Kailain smiled to the memory of the scientist and the holographic lifeform. "As far as he said, that's the true story about how he rescued Holiday from the hands of a Hutt. When he was getting old he wrote that holonovel and insisted on giving me a signed copy so that I would not forget him and Holiday. Now I give it to you."
"Why me?" Arklos asked. "I mean... it's a great honor, Master, but why me?"
"I think that you, Shi-Sha, deserve it. I trust that you will take good care of it," Kailain answered evenly, still smiling. Part of her ached to let go of keepsakes of her old companions who had traveled with her and faced and fought countless of enemies by her side, but she knew that this had to be done.
"Master Khoon, I swear to the Ancients that I will keep this safe," Arklos wondered if he would pass it along his legacy one day. Surely there would be someone he would see worthy of it just like Kailain Khoon saw him.
"You know, you can someday take time to read it through. It's actually funny to read," Kailain recommended. The dark-skinned Amarosian grinned shortly. "It sounds like the Tharan I learned to know, so there must be truth in it, even if he just made it all up."
"I will, Master Khoon. Thank you!" Arklos said. He hesitated; the Jedi Sage looked tired. "I... I believe I must go now. I think you should get some rest, Master."
"If you must go, then go. I will rest," Kailain kept her happy attitude even though she felt bitter; she did not do much else than rested nowadays. She would give anything for one last voyage, one last adventure.

Arklos Irrarr left with gratitude and Kailain Khoon went to her bed, waiting for the day when she would travel to her last journey before joining the Force.