March 15, 2010

unintentional flash fiction

When I read Laurel’s post about microfiction, I immediately thought, “There’s no way I could fit a story into a few words.” Then I realized that in my collection of story ideas, I’d already written some flash fiction. I don’t know if they exactly meet the definitions, but here are some of my attempts.

--Did she know the effect her smile had on him, that it had the power to bring him to his knees? Did she know that he lay awake every night, wondering when she would notice him?

--Why was my cell phone ringing at 2 a.m.? I rolled over and looked at the caller i.d. “Michael Kendrick.” Was this the call I’d been waiting for?
“Julia, it’s me. I think we found him.”
Tension that had been building up over the last five years escaped like air from a balloon.

--I should have known he was dangerous. The steely glint in his eye should have been my first clue. And if I ignored that, the two blasters he tossed onto the chair in the corner should have warned me. But I’m stupid. I like dangerous men. That’s my only excuse for marrying a scoundrel.

--My daughter is having a piece of her brain removed today at three o'clock. If only I could be so lucky as to have part of *my* brain removed - specifically the part that had loved my ex-husband to the point of ignoring his affairs and emotional abuse. If I hadn’t been so naive and gullible, I wouldn’t have this ache in my heart and the desire to go under the knife myself. But then, removing the pain of his betrayal would never be that easy. Nothing in my life is ever *that* easy.

--One look at the body lying at her feet and Kelani knew that her world was about to come crashing down. If it had been a human body, she could have ignored it. But there was nothing human about it.

--Twenty years of living as a human had taken its toll.

--Eric Bowman was tired – tired of the relentless rain, tired of the cold, and tired of this backward planet. He would have given just about anything to go home. But as much as thoughts of home invaded his thoughts, catching Drew O’Connor was the only thing that mattered.

The next few are from a conversation I had with my boys and my writing partner. I had a lot of fun with these.

--Jenna Malone had never killed anyone – unless it was necessary. Unfortunately, today was one of those days.
--Jenna Malone never killed anyone on an empty stomach.
--Jenna Malone had never killed anyone – at least not that that she could remember.
--Jenna Malone never killed on Tuesdays. Today would be the exception.
--Jenna Malone never killed anyone before noon.
--Jenna Malone had never killed anyone, except her husband.

*** thanks to some encouragement from Laurel, i just submitted two of these to Two Sentence Stories. you can go rate my stories here: You Can't Run Forever and Day Job. (c'mon, make me look good.) i also submitted the shortest one to Nanoism. not sure when that one will go up.

1 comment:

laurel said...

Good for you, Michelle! I knew you had it in you! I think one of those two sentence pieces you list last would be good candidates to send to the two sentence e-zine I linked.

And I'd love to see the brain surgery piece expanded to a full-fledged flash of 500 words. Those characters in particular intrigued me.