Flash Fiction
Here’s my new writing badge, for writing flash fiction every day from May 1 through May 30! What is “Flash Fiction?” It’s very short fiction, too short to be considered a short story. Here are the definitions used by Deadlines for Writers:
Flash Fiction: 750 to 1,000 words
Sudden Fiction: 100 to 750 words
Drabble/Micro-Fiction: 50 to 100 words
Dribble/Mini-Saga: up to 50 words
There are also 6-word stories, 10 word-stories, etc., which are self-explanatory.
For this challenge, each day I received a prompt and an exact word count between 6 and 300 words, with the stories due about 30 hours after the prompt was issued. Posting on the Deadlines site is for workshopping, so each of my stories was kindly critiqued by other writers and I was expected to critique four other writers’ stories each day. It is impressive to read so many complete stories - including a main character, a story goal, a plot, a moment of change and an end - told in so few words.
Although I wrote and submitted every day — which is all that is required to earn the badge — I must confess not all of my pieces were complete stories. Some of them were mini-scenes written to plug holes in my novels-in-progress and some of them ended in “to be continued” with the story told over a few days.
Scroll below the badge to read some of my shorter pieces.
Prompt: Poverty | Word Count: 35
We stood on the curb outside the boarded tenement where we’d grown up.
“Were we poor?” my sister asked.
“Other kids,” I said, “had nicer houses. But I think our little room held more love.”
Prompt: Water | Word Count: 60
She had escaped. Now she could run for fun instead of for her life. At Mile 12, a volunteer yells “Water!” She grabs the cup from his outstretched hand.
“Thank you!” She gulps it down. Tosses the cup in the gutter. Why is her cup white when all the others are red?
She looks back. The volunteer laughs. She collapses.
Prompt: Absorb | Word Count: 50
The relentless onshore wind pushed the surging tide farther inland than before. Rain poured out of the sky. The ground could not absorb another drop. Millie’s father lashed her to a beam in the attic and went back downstairs to get her mother. Millie never saw either of them again.
Prompt: My Life | Word Count: 6
What am I supposed to do now?
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Here are some other ideas I had for that last one, If it seems repetitive, it’s because that’s where the prompt inevitably lead me:
We loved. You died. I survived.
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We chose this island. I’m here.
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I have one question for God.
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I moved to Georgia. Again. Alone.
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I moved to Georgia two times.
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Someone had to feed the dogs.
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First me. Then us. Now me.
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Not exactly how I planned it.
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Who gets to live like this?
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Life’s short. Move south. Eat shrimp.
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Life’s short. Move south. Drink Tequila.