Furious Fiction May

For the Australian Writers' Centre monthly contest. Not a winner!

Prompts:
Your story’s first word must be FIVE.
Your story must include something being replaced.
Your story must include the phrase A SILVER LINING.


Indoor Games

“Five, four, three, two, balaclava, now the floor is all hot lava!” The tiny ringleader in the red bandana jumped on the ottoman and shouted her countdown. Arms and legs and shrieks filled the air as the other kids scrambled to claim their own pieces of furniture.

In the kitchen, Paul placed the last mimosa on the tall island with a flourish. Four mothers perched around on swiveling bar stools. “If there’s a silver lining to all this,” he said, “it’s seeing the kids get off the screens for a while.”

“Cheers to that!” The mothers clinked glasses, and Paul left with a wave.

“Yesterday, Lula pulled a stack of books off the shelf! I was shocked,” Alice said.

“Max and Ez dragged the box of Legos from the back of the closet,” Dana said.

“That’s constructive!”

“Of course, we didn’t realize about the Legos until the next morning,” she said, adding a little vodka to her glass.

“What did they build?”

Dana swirled the glass. “Nothing. They were playing farm. They ‘planted’ them in the entire living room rug, wall to wall. I had to do the Heimlich on the cat, and John almost had to have a few surgically removed from his feet.” She twisted her wedding ring. “Why couldn’t they go for books, like yours, Alice? What’s Lula reading?”

“Reading,” Alice snorted. “I wish. Said they were using the books to ‘do spells.’”

“That’s cute…”

“Is it? She and Frankie tore out the pages and crumpled them up. They lit the balls of paper on the stove and tossed them into the oven to burn. I ran in when the smoke detector started blaring.”

“Oh, god.”

“Well, yesterday mine played beauty parlor,” Marcy said, watching the foam rise as she topped off her glass with champagne.

“Now, that’s sweet,” cooed Dana. “Must be so nice to have girls.”

Marcy slurped the foam. “One of those moments where it was a little too quiet, you know? So I go upstairs, and find all - all - of my makeup spread across the the bathroom and smeared all over their little faces.”

“Ugh, classic mess! But no harm done, right?”

“Ashlye'd cut a giant patch out of Hazel’s hair. That’s why she’s wearing it all wrapped up in that bandana today.”

“Oh, no!”

“And I came in just as Hazel was about to paint nail polish on Ashlye. As eyeliner.”

“No!”

“Yep. I scream, she drops the bottle. It shatters. Hot-pink polish and glass shards everywhere, mixed in with the hair cuttings. I swear, some days I wish I had boys.”

“You think so?” Trina replaced her mimosa with a splash of scotch. “My boys like to play ‘rock.’”

“Rock?”

“Yeah. They throw a rock at each other until one of them comes inside crying.” She emptied her glass.

At their feet, hot lava roiled and spluttered.

Marcy sighed as she curled her legs tighter under herself.

“At least they’re finally off the screens.”