Another heat stroke cataract construction day. We worked the skin burning field. Drank a lot of water. Sweated too much. When the clouds covered the sun, I was gladdened. The temperature dropped, a slight breeze erupted, and thick sheets of lightning stuttered across the sky.
“Storm coming,” I said.
“Nope, just heat lightning.”
I didn’t believe them. When they told me about the pickle tree, the laugh was on them. The leaves did taste like pickles. And I did catch the skype—whatever the hell it is—but, yes, something did jump into my sack. I let it go, but I had it—probably.
A storm was coming. I was hopeful.
| Copyright © 2023 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively. |
Thanks for the change of pace, Michael! It's fun. I've thought about writing some flash fiction pieces myself, but keeping a story to fewer than 100 words (or so) is challenging! Have you any pointers for beginners? Or a recommended website to consult about how to do it?
ReplyDeleteMichael, reading your stuff is always a harrowing experience, like standing too close to fast traffic, or under planes landing, right at the fence. Words like evocative pale. Going for Three had me holding my breath by line 2, and seeing how short it was in my peripheral vision was at once horrifying and exhilarating. I so wanted it to be longer but I also knew the crunch would come quickly. That's flash fiction, eh? I like it.
ReplyDeleteBack in the day when the Chicago Reader was paying my rent, we called flash nonfiction slice of life. That's what flash fiction is. A slice of a tale brought to its barebones. Perhaps the most famous flash fiction is credited to Hemingway, though others have taken credit for it:
ReplyDeleteBaby shoes, bronzed, never worn.
It's like a one act play. A lot of people are into flash fiction and you can find many of them online. I say write an experience that you found interesting, fill it in with some substance, then carve it to its bones and you have flash fiction.
“…then carve it to its bones”
DeleteThanks for the key, Michael!
Roger, thank you so much for your most kind words.
ReplyDelete