Flash Fiction: Another Story About Me and Some Guy

Very happy to hear the news that one of my favorite litmags, Night Train, founded in 2002 and edited by Rusty Barnes, is back and looking for submissions here: http://www.nighttrainmagazine.com/. I’ve been lucky enough to publish a few stories in Night Train and this is a good way to introduce my next topic of flash fiction: the one paragraph story/prose poem. I love, love, love this form and use it a lot and lots of writers do it much better than I do. I will post their one paragraph stories here in the coming weeks (and if you have one, please post it in the comments section, I’d love to read it!) What I love about the one paragraph story is the tight encapsulation and breathlessness it achieves which suits a certain type of story to a T. Here is my one paragraph story, originally published in the great Night Train:

frost-378599_640 copyAnother Story About Me and Some Guy

 

We met because I hate the actor Bruce Willis. I knew he was in the movie, I thought I could manage, but eventually I had to excuse myself to the lobby. That’s when I saw Martin Ripley, blowing out his sinuses into a napkin. I squirted butter on my popcorn and said is there any chance you could do that outside? He gave me a destroyed look that, I confess, broke my heart. He was super tall and slightly malformed in a way that indicated possible chromosome damage. Do you like Bruce Willis? I asked, and he said sure, who doesn’t like Bruce Willis? And I said me, I can’t stand him and Martin Ripley said well… He tossed the napkin and asked if I’d like to go with him. Where, I said and he said anywhere. Jupiter. Cincinnati. He said first he had to take Maalox to his mother and there was the dry cleaning to pick up, a book to return. I thought about the guy, the other guy, I left in the theater, but here was Martin Ripley, smiling and introducing himself and shaking my hand. I looked up into his face, the asymmetry of his jaw like the asymmetry of my chest and I said let’s go. Spring was breathing puffs of steam out of the asphalt and the sun on the melting snow hurt my eyes and Martin Ripley drove as if the two of us were on a long trip, something important and urgent, as if someone far away had died and here we were, speeding to the wake.

18 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: Another Story About Me and Some Guy”

  1. First of all, you’re back. Yay! I loved this story the first time I read it in your book. Here is one from me. I tend toward flash under 300 words:

    The Wedding Night

    Her knee slammed into the corner of the glass-covered night table as she struggled to sit up, the sharp pain serving to awaken her senses. Outside, fog horns called to each other through a dense mist like giant beasts in search of their mate, while inside her bare foot brushed against the empty bottle of “Jose Cuervo” that had transported her from her own. Her eyes began to focus, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, until her gaze fell upon the discarded heap of satin and white lace lying on the floor, causing a swell of panic to encase her in its grip once again: The pounding of the church organ, the suffocating scent of a thousand gardenias, the eyes – so many eyes – bearing down upon her every step. From behind, she felt him stir and his arm slowly encircle her – like a noose.

    1. Indeed I am! I’ll be teaching flash as part of a low-residency MFA program that’s still in the works. Most of it will be online, with two ten-day residencies on campus. Stay tuned!

  2. Wow!! That’s a perfect paragraph! Makes me want more while I’m still am satisfied by how it ends. And that guy, Kathy, it’s like he’s sitting next to me and I’m worried I’ll catch something if he shakes my hand. VIVID! IMMEDIATE! POWERFUL!

      1. Unfortunately, no. You’d have to be enrolled in the MFA program to take the class. But I’m considering doing my own, too. I’ll certainly let you know. Thanks, Jayne!

  3. Hi Kathy,

    Great story and love your idea of posting other flash pieces on your site. I have a few up on my blog that I update weekly, but there is one that is close to my heart as it just seemed to rush onto the page.

    Five Birds’ Worth

    I watch the birds while you drink. Through our kitchen window, as you say it’s too dangerous to be outside. On windy days they swoop, in a rollercoaster of ups and downs that curl round clouds and whip the tops of trees. Sometimes they’re only dots, dark m’s and w’s that make a blackboard of the sky. On the days I go to school I collect their feathers. They’re small and soft with glints of blacky blue, the colour of new bruises. I keep them in a biscuit box. That’s so old the paint‘s nearly gone, and only the big S lets you know it once had biscuits. I have at least five birds’ worth now. It’s enough to build a wing, but not enough to get away.

    It available to view at: http://www.clodaghobrien.com/2014/03/15/five-birds-worth-flash-fiction/#more-2272

    1. Whoosh, this is terrific, Clodagh. So ominous. You give the reader only enough information to make the sad situation clear (i.e. “on the days I go to school”). Thanks so much for posting! This is a great example of what can be done in one paragraph flash fiction.

    2. I like this a lot, Clodagh. I agree with Kathy. Very ominous “… the colour of new bruises” is particularly telling. I see a story about a stolen child who has been held for some time. Good work!

  4. A little late here (story of my life), but I wholeheartedly agree with the encouragement for you to teach an online flash fiction course! I’d be there in a heartbeat! 🙂

Comments are closed.

Scroll to Top