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Some attempts at Flash Fiction

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  • Some attempts at Flash Fiction

    Okay, written some Flash Fiction, nothing fancy. They all kind of follow a basic linear plot and you can either see them as seperate stories or see as a series concerning the same charecter. Never written flash fiction before. So, I hope these pass muster.


    Maybe it was the way she picked at her food. Maybe it was how she avoided making direct eye contact with him. He reached out his hand to stroke hers gently and she pulled it back to brush some hair out of her eyes. He sighed and knew that without a doubt that when the dinner was over, so was the relationship. He wanted to make a last, desperate stand, to tell her that they could work on it. But all he did was pick at his food and await the dull, boredom that came with being single.



    “Is this CD yours?�
    “Does it matter?�
    “Well, if it’s yours, I won’t take it.�
    “Well, it’s yours. Take it.�
    She sighs and slams the case into the bag.
    “Why do you always have to be like this?�
    “Like what?�
    “So unhelpful.�
    “I’m helpful, I’m helping you get the hell out of my life, aren’t I?�
    She glares at him. He stands there, not moving, in his mind it makes him feel tough and hard. It makes him feel like a action hero.
    Of course, Vin Diesal can’t stop his girlfriend from slamming the door behind her as she storms out.
    “Shit.�



    He drains his can and wonders where to put it. The floor will do, the can bounces once, twice, lands, rolls across the floor and under the sofa to join the collection of pizza boxes and chocolate bar wrappers. He slumps back in his chair, his eyes concentrating as the two naked girls on his screen rub and kiss each other in ways that make him feel good. Make him feel like jerking off; make him feel good for a time. But really, he knows that when it’s all over and he’s wiped away the joy. He knows that he’s going to pick up the phone and beg to sort this all out.



    “Carling, please.�
    He looks at the girl sitting on the stool next to him. She’s attractive, blonde, reasonably nice tits. The kind of girl he wouldn’t mind shagging once or twice but couldn’t really deal with building a real relationship with. She looks 17, he’s 28, girls her age dig guys his age. Experience…yeah, he’s experienced all right, experienced with letting a reasonably good woman go because he’d rather be out screwing jail bait. The beer is placed down next to him; he picks it up and begins to go over his opening line. She stands up and totters off, her pert little bottom wiggling a message: Sorry buddy, you could’ve had me all to yourself.
    Right now, his best friend is the beer.

  • #2
    Neat stuff. I wonder if you could do the same from the perspective of the girl. Either girl. What's it like being a bar fly? What's it like getting dumped by a loser?
    The cat spread its wings and flew high into the air, hovering to keep pace with them as they moved cautiously toward the city. Then, as they climbed over the rubble of what had once been a gateway and began to make their way through piles of weed-grown masonry, the cat flew to the squat building with the yellow dome upon its roof. It flew twice around the dome and then came back to settle on Jhary's shoulder. - The King of the Swords

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    • #3
      Okay, one more useless guy one. I'll start on doing a more female slanted one now...wonder if I still have a feminine side.


      Was it always this hard to talk to woman?
      “Yeah, I’m (Insert name here) and I like (insert geeky hobby here).�
      She’ll smile, maybe nod. Then make an excuse and leave, suddenly she’ll become best friends with that polish bloke she’s never seen before. She’ll claim she’s not seen him since College, grab her drink and vanish. You don’t blame her; you’d be doing the exact same thing in her shoes. Maybe it’s the beard; maybe beards aren’t sexy anymore. Maybe you should shave it, maybe you should get a personality transplant, maybe you should lie and claim to be in the Navy. Easy sailor in more ways than one.

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      • #4
        Yeah, I need more practice writing from a female experience. Man, I really hope these stories don't make me come off sexist.


        Sometimes, she wished she was ugly. Maybe then she wouldn’t be treated like a piece of meat. Maybe she wouldn’t be treated as �vagina and tits on legs.’ Nearly all the guys with a halfway decent personality would be scared off by her looks; they’d think that she wouldn’t be interested in talking. She likes talking; the majority of guys who come up to her and try to chat her up can’t even spell Trotsky much less know what it means. Maybe if she was a little plumper instead of blonde and perky, people would be much more willing to see the real her.


        God, she’s making me look bad. I’m her friend; I don’t want to see her suck face with that guy. If they see me with her, guys are gonna think that I’m going to be easy like her. She invited me out, I wanted to stay in. I’ve got much more interesting things to do than get plastered and end up being indiscriminately groped in some back ally. Of course, when we get back home, I’m going to have to put up with listening to her shagging this guy. Then in the morning will have to put up with his nakedness as he drinks cold coffee on the sofa. I wonder if Mum’s doing anything.

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