Flash fiction stories are shorter than a regular short story. The average length is about three hundred words. Flash fiction is meant to make you think, to suprise you. Try these on for size.
Airport
I walked down the stairs and completely ran over my neighbor from 3B. I pushed the door open; it was lighter than I remembered. I don't look both ways as I cross the street. My mother wouldn't be happy to hear that. But it doesn't matter. I got hit by a bus.
Seeing
He sees her sitting on a park bench eating a sandwhich. He wants to go up to and tell her but he doesn't. He doesn't. He watches her bob her head to the beat of a nearby street musician. He watches her flex her muscles as she stands.
Passage
He bumped into the table and knocked the orange off the granite meant to hold. It hit the floor with a sound like a penny falling from the top of the Empire State Building and landing on the roof a FedEx truck and leaving a dent. The orange journyed across the wide, polished tundra of the kitchen floor with a swagger reminiscent of . It passed the isolated villages of dust bunnies, gathered for the Fire Festival.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Word of the Day: Fish
As a fish my home never changes,
the scenery no one ever rearranges.
A small green plant has been growing
next to me while I was knowing
it was to be my only friend
as in the water it sways and bends
Life giving water passes through my gills.
Oh, where are my dreams, my joys and wills
to live?
Please give
me a chance to be!
Because, you see,
no inch of my bowl is unexplored
and as a result I'm often bored.
So I stare off into the outside
wishing I was on the other side
of the glass
racing fast.
No more of the lazy swimming;
No more of the lazy swimming;
with excitement I would be brimming!
I would travel around and see all the land
not having to be fed by the human hand.
I would change the world,
see adventure before me unfurled!
My survival instincts would show
and I would go, go, go!
Alas, this bowl entraps my mind,
my soul and dreams it binds.
A life like that is not meant to be.
If you lived like me
you'd agree.
So while I'm dreaming about living this way,
I'll just swim each day away.
Word of the Day: Sleep
I was walking through the rain forest, when out of nowhere, out jumps Jim Carrey dressed in a pumpkin suit singing "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey.
Dreams are....strange. There are good ones, funny ones, ones that make no sense at all (see above), and of course, nightmares.
I had a nightmare once when I was younger that a vampire had kidnapped my older brother, my mother and I in our house. I was lucky enough to escape, but my family wasn't so lucky. The worst nightmares I have are about running though. Example: I'm running over some sand dunes and I trip and fall and can't get back up. Then my legs actually move becasue my dream is so vivid and I wake up. It's the worst feeling.
The dreams that make you feel good inside are always nice to have. Those are the ones where you save a life and go on to win the Nobel Peace Prize. More than likely it's not going to happen in real life, so it's nice to get that experience.
My favorite dreams, however, are the ones that make no sense at all. In my family these are the most common. Our breakfast table is essentially a tell dreams table when you stuff food in your mouth whenever you're not talking.
Some people think these dreams that make no sense actually do make sense. That your "subconcious" is trying to speak to you, telling you what to do in your life. B.S. Your "subconcious" is most likely just trying to reboot. Think of all you do in one day. And with all that, your brain goes a little hay-wire at the end of the day? Go figure. Sleep is the way your brain gets to unwind.
I'm writing today on the subject of sleep because I'm completely lacking in that department. And I will probably still be lacking when I get home in 2 weeks.
That's the way life is I guess. Sometimes it's good and uplifting. Sometimes it's scary and all you want to do is get out of there. Other times it's almost to crazy to believe. Isn't it great?
Dreams are....strange. There are good ones, funny ones, ones that make no sense at all (see above), and of course, nightmares.
I had a nightmare once when I was younger that a vampire had kidnapped my older brother, my mother and I in our house. I was lucky enough to escape, but my family wasn't so lucky. The worst nightmares I have are about running though. Example: I'm running over some sand dunes and I trip and fall and can't get back up. Then my legs actually move becasue my dream is so vivid and I wake up. It's the worst feeling.
The dreams that make you feel good inside are always nice to have. Those are the ones where you save a life and go on to win the Nobel Peace Prize. More than likely it's not going to happen in real life, so it's nice to get that experience.
My favorite dreams, however, are the ones that make no sense at all. In my family these are the most common. Our breakfast table is essentially a tell dreams table when you stuff food in your mouth whenever you're not talking.
Some people think these dreams that make no sense actually do make sense. That your "subconcious" is trying to speak to you, telling you what to do in your life. B.S. Your "subconcious" is most likely just trying to reboot. Think of all you do in one day. And with all that, your brain goes a little hay-wire at the end of the day? Go figure. Sleep is the way your brain gets to unwind.
I'm writing today on the subject of sleep because I'm completely lacking in that department. And I will probably still be lacking when I get home in 2 weeks.
That's the way life is I guess. Sometimes it's good and uplifting. Sometimes it's scary and all you want to do is get out of there. Other times it's almost to crazy to believe. Isn't it great?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Word of the Day: Hardcore
Hardcore, as defined by Dictionary.com means "unswervingly commited; dedicated." In today's world the meaning may be a little more, shall we say, abstract. Let me give you a few examples of hardcore things in today's world.
North Dakota is hardcore. The people living in North Dakota are hardcore. Think about it. We, as North Dakotans, spend our winters outside shoveling when it is cold enough to freeze our snot. We spend our summers baking in the sun like lemon poppyseed muffins in Jamie Oliver's oven. We are hardcore because we uses horse drawn carriages to travel long distances and we don't have indoor toilets. That's a joke. Ha. But seriously, some people do think we are that far behind on the times. Going beyond that stereotype also makes us hardcore.
Another hardcore thing is having two computer screens hooked up to one computer. My friend thought he was "special" when he figured it out, but I just laughed at him. My dad had it figured out weeks ago. Take that, genius.
If you are living anywhere within three thousand miles (give or take a few) from Minneapolis and St. Paul in Minnesota, you are a Vikings fan. If you are not a fan, no one likes you so it doesn't matter anyways. Now, Vikings are hardcore. The ones who invaded North America were; the ones who beat the Green Bay Packers from September to January are and the ones who cheer them on dressed in their fake yellow beard and purple chest paint are too. Go to a game and tell me you disagree. Just try it. You'll fail.
Hardcore people do not fail. It's in their blood, becasue you see, hardcore people are born not made. This can be showed in two specific examples: runners and soldiers.
Runners are some of the most hardcore people. Think about it, they run in circles, for hours on end. Hours. Not stopping to eat, drink or pee. Nothing can get in their way. They'll just run over it. They are the steamrollers of sports. You can't get much more hardcore than that.
The military does try, though, to be more hardcore than any person or thing on this planet. And they succeed most of the time. Not everyone can make it through basic training. I'm willing to bet there is a wall, somewhere hidden inside West Point, where gnarled expierenced military officers who are missing an eye or a leg go to smoke cigars (hardcore) and laugh about the pansies who couldn't make it through and ended up with their picture on this Wall of Shame.
Now, let me clear something up. You don't have to be physically tough and enduring to be hardcore. I know a few hardcore individuals who couldn't life a dumbell to save their lives. The waitress, for instance, who knows how much I love pumpkin pie, brings a slice to my table complete with a dollop of whipped cream. She's hardcore.
But the most common way people are defined hardcore is their physical toughness. Take those who participate in the Iditarod. The Iditarod is a race through the Alaskan wilderness of over one thousand one hundred fifty miles during the dead of winter. The mushers (people) and their dogs have to battle sub-zero temperatures, hunger and the wind just to win bragging rights. Bragging rights that say they are, legitimately, hardcore.
Now, there are not many legitimately hardcore people on television. With the exceptions of Regis Philbin and Barbara Walters, I can only think of two: Survivorman and Howie Mandel.
Survivorman is Les Stroud who goes out into the Canadian wilderness with limited rescources and tries to survive - thus the name - all the while videotaping his adventures to be broadcasted across the world. He would be hardcore even if he didn't tape himself eating squirrels; that just makes him that much more hardcore.
Howie Mandel is hardcore for a different reason: the infamous fist pump. One might also argue another factor making him hardcore is his job; spending most evenings with twenty-five beautiful models may also make you hardcore. One might argue.
I hope I have advanced your knowledge of the idea of being hardcore. Now what are you doing still reading this? You should be out running, or training for the Iditarod, enlisting in the miltary or buying me a pumpkin pie. Go on, go be hardcore!
North Dakota is hardcore. The people living in North Dakota are hardcore. Think about it. We, as North Dakotans, spend our winters outside shoveling when it is cold enough to freeze our snot. We spend our summers baking in the sun like lemon poppyseed muffins in Jamie Oliver's oven. We are hardcore because we uses horse drawn carriages to travel long distances and we don't have indoor toilets. That's a joke. Ha. But seriously, some people do think we are that far behind on the times. Going beyond that stereotype also makes us hardcore.
Another hardcore thing is having two computer screens hooked up to one computer. My friend thought he was "special" when he figured it out, but I just laughed at him. My dad had it figured out weeks ago. Take that, genius.
If you are living anywhere within three thousand miles (give or take a few) from Minneapolis and St. Paul in Minnesota, you are a Vikings fan. If you are not a fan, no one likes you so it doesn't matter anyways. Now, Vikings are hardcore. The ones who invaded North America were; the ones who beat the Green Bay Packers from September to January are and the ones who cheer them on dressed in their fake yellow beard and purple chest paint are too. Go to a game and tell me you disagree. Just try it. You'll fail.
Hardcore people do not fail. It's in their blood, becasue you see, hardcore people are born not made. This can be showed in two specific examples: runners and soldiers.
Runners are some of the most hardcore people. Think about it, they run in circles, for hours on end. Hours. Not stopping to eat, drink or pee. Nothing can get in their way. They'll just run over it. They are the steamrollers of sports. You can't get much more hardcore than that.
The military does try, though, to be more hardcore than any person or thing on this planet. And they succeed most of the time. Not everyone can make it through basic training. I'm willing to bet there is a wall, somewhere hidden inside West Point, where gnarled expierenced military officers who are missing an eye or a leg go to smoke cigars (hardcore) and laugh about the pansies who couldn't make it through and ended up with their picture on this Wall of Shame.
Now, let me clear something up. You don't have to be physically tough and enduring to be hardcore. I know a few hardcore individuals who couldn't life a dumbell to save their lives. The waitress, for instance, who knows how much I love pumpkin pie, brings a slice to my table complete with a dollop of whipped cream. She's hardcore.
But the most common way people are defined hardcore is their physical toughness. Take those who participate in the Iditarod. The Iditarod is a race through the Alaskan wilderness of over one thousand one hundred fifty miles during the dead of winter. The mushers (people) and their dogs have to battle sub-zero temperatures, hunger and the wind just to win bragging rights. Bragging rights that say they are, legitimately, hardcore.
Now, there are not many legitimately hardcore people on television. With the exceptions of Regis Philbin and Barbara Walters, I can only think of two: Survivorman and Howie Mandel.
Survivorman is Les Stroud who goes out into the Canadian wilderness with limited rescources and tries to survive - thus the name - all the while videotaping his adventures to be broadcasted across the world. He would be hardcore even if he didn't tape himself eating squirrels; that just makes him that much more hardcore.
Howie Mandel is hardcore for a different reason: the infamous fist pump. One might also argue another factor making him hardcore is his job; spending most evenings with twenty-five beautiful models may also make you hardcore. One might argue.
I hope I have advanced your knowledge of the idea of being hardcore. Now what are you doing still reading this? You should be out running, or training for the Iditarod, enlisting in the miltary or buying me a pumpkin pie. Go on, go be hardcore!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
