Flash Fiction

I was reading about Ernest Hemingway the other day. There is a story that he bet some friends ten dollars that he could tell a story in six words. Papa turned in this, “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” His colleagues paid up.

That would become what is called “ short short fiction” or “flash fiction.”

It seemed that it would be a fun challenge. I decided to give it a go. It’s much more challenging than it seems.

These are some of my “flash fiction.”

Longed to have her. Bad idea.

Ninth inning, two outs, pitch thrown.

We killed Mum. She’s a zombie.

Lottery was won. Money now gone.

At the crossroads, the deal was offered. (I cheated a bit there, that’s seven words.)

A play happening, Booth lurked behind.

He sent weekly letters to her.

The gun fired, it was accidental.

He tread water as sharks circled.

And my favorite;

After she died, the cats feasted.

Sure, not quite the poetry of Hemingway’s, but to quote the chimney sweep Bert in Mary Poppins, “they’re better than a finger in the eye.”

Well, maybe they are.

Good night and good luck.