Flash Fiction Friday: Add your own in the comments!

4 May

If you are reading this, return the favor: let us read you! Or don’t. We don’t want to be pushy. But if you are so inclined, we want to start up Flash Fiction Fridays and it’ll be so much more fun with more people playing along.

Flash fiction goes by many different names and has about as many definitions. For our purposes, though, it’s gonna be anything under 500 words. So, air any ideas, characters, or situations that you just can’t shake. Make shit up or tell us the truth, it’s all the same in fiction. After all, if fiction is “the lie that tells a truth”(via John Dufresne), it stands to reason that it is also the truth told as a lie.

Here’s mine:

The place is empty on a Friday, which works well for him. He retrieves the blanket from his bottom drawer and unfurls his yoga mat in the copy room (where it is warmest). It never gets completely dark – the exit signs glow even in the daylight and at night they light up whole sections of the office like an unholy waiting room, where you sit can for years before one of Satan’s bureaucratic minions calls you to the window. It is a lot like that in the daylight too. And even he is a lot like his daytime self. He is supine, not seated, but his mind cranks around things that are not real to him and he wonders what everyone does with their lives if they don’t do this.


4 Responses to “Flash Fiction Friday: Add your own in the comments!”

  1. Waiting May 4, 2012 at 7:34 pm #

    He waits. He always waits. In a minute or two, or in an hour or two it will strike. The waiting disrupts his attention like a tween waiting for the next text. It strikes. She will be late to the office, again.

    • haley May 4, 2012 at 7:57 pm #

      I love it! Today’s theme: we’re serving up some shitty office realness

  2. smartLeigh May 4, 2012 at 8:08 pm #

    Damn, girl. Okay. Let’s see what I can do in 8 minutes. Here goes:

    Jena sat staring at her new nail polish, servin’ up sparkle, as the sound grew louder and louder. “Bang, bang, bang!” Her smile widened every time she turned her hand toward the overhead light in the elevator. “Bang, bang, bang!” She thought about the time when she was little and her teacher put her in the closet to punish her for her insolence which boiled down to being caught talking during lunch hour. “What a stupid, nazi-esque rule for elementary school children,” she thought. But for the life of her, she still couldn’t remember if losing her underwear in kindergarten and being mortified while forced to sit Indian-style for a head count was real or a dream. Her heart told her it was real, but she preferred to categorize it as a dream. “Bang, bang, bang!” Something wet and sticky dripped down her leg. The elevator began to sway from side to side and it broke Jena’s concentration, something that is usually so easy to do. When she looked up at the doors of the elevator they parted as a blunt metal object forced them apart. Jena laid on her back, relieved, as the EMT worker rushed to her side. The afterbirth contractions grew stronger and stronger. “Finally,” she thought, “someone can cut the umbilical cord and get my baby off the floor”.

    • haley May 4, 2012 at 8:10 pm #

      Oh, this is so wonderfully sick and wrong. Love!

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