Flash Fiction Stories

I’ve always admired writers who can elicit an emotional response from a story written in 1000 words or less. Those few, yet precise words need to take you on a roller coaster ride of emotions using only a couple of characters, one or maybe two scenes, while providing a plot filled with conflict and then somehow wrap-up leaving you both satisfied and wanting more. Not an easy task for such a small amount of words, but when done right, accomplishes all of the above seamlessly. 

There are different theories on word count and story length to be considered flash fiction. However, the rule of thumb is any story written with a few words all the way up to about 1000 words is considered a flash fiction piece. These short stories have also been referred to as short-shorts, sudden fiction, and micro fiction. 

In my opinion, a good flash fiction piece needs to be pulled from a moment in time. Perhaps already knee-deep in the action, or a reaction to something that has just occurred, or maybe even the prelude to something about to happen. It should be a complete, satisfying story scene with a beginning, a middle, and an end, perhaps within a bigger story. Either way, while the moment written about may end, that next moment is sitting there waiting to be discovered within the reader’s own imagination as to what happens next. Quite simply, just as in real life, although the scene is complete, the story does not end merely because the words on the page have ended. Instead, the reader will, hopefully, leap to that next moment and come to their own conclusion as to where the story really ends.

In the interest of continuing to grow and improve as a writer, I'd like to share a 500-word flash fiction piece I’ve been working on and tweaking just for the fun of it. I don’t begin to believe that it fully accomplishes what I’ve just stated above, but…

… I will let you jump to your own conclusion J

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Loose Ends

Jimmy was on his knees silently weeping. He refused to give his assailant the satisfaction of seeing him cry out loud. He still felt that he’d done nothing wrong. His hands were positioned behind his back, secured tightly by a couple of large zip-ties that were starting to cut into his wrists. He could feel the cold, steel point of the twelve-inch blade pulling the hairs from the base of his neck as it sunk deep into his body at an angle aimed for his heart. He knew the wetness he felt running across his fingertips was from the blood dripping down his back as the knife continued its journey inward. The slight shiver he experienced as the blood reached his hands had surprised him.

  This is it, he thought, this is how I’m going to die. He said a prayer to himself as his body began to convulse from the blade pushing through his spine and into the backside of his heart. His vision began to fade. First at the outer edge of his eyes, then quickly enveloping into total darkness as he felt his soul slip away.

  The man responsible for Jimmy’s death let the knife fall from his hand as the body lurched forward and collapsed flat on the ground.

  George looked at Jimmy lying there while blood began to pool around his body. He leaned in close and spit in his brother’s face for good measure, and then walked out of the room.

  He went into the bathroom where the woman was lying in the tub, submerged in three feet of water. George angrily surprised Eileen as she was washing off the stank of his younger brother. Actually, she’d been relaxing in the tub with her eyes closed when he’d walked in on her. She thought it was Jimmy until she felt his cold hands wrapped around her neck. Her eyes popped open just as he pushed her face beneath the water. It was over in less than a minute, and now, he was bent over kissing his wife on the forehead, while a surprised look of terror remained frozen forever in her lifeless eyes.

  He walked out the front door of his house, tipped a hello to the neighbor, and got into his car. George sat in the driveway trying to clear his head, but his thoughts kept going back to what he had just done. His brother. His wife. Their betrayal. His act of vengeance. He groaned.

  George realized he still had one loose end left to tie up, but this would require something more than a knife. He opened the car’s glove box and pulled out the .32 he had stashed inside. He smiled as he remembered that old phrase his brother used to say when they were kids; Life’s a bitch, and then you die. He sighed, took a deep breath, and as those words echoed in his head, he held the gun tight against his chin and pulled the trigger.

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I would love to hear any comments, positive or negative on what you think about the story.

Thanks! 😀

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