Flash Fiction

The man does not say anything.

The woman gets up off of the sofa, walks into the kitchen, pours herself a glass of water, and drinks it silently in the dim bluish light of the television screen. The man looks at his hands. The woman sighs and turns to put her empty glass in the sink.

“You want anything, then?”

“Nope.”

The woman walks into the bedroom and quietly shuts the door. The man walks to the bookshelf, picks up a book, considers it for a moment, puts it back, and returns to the sofa. In the dim bluish light of the television screen, he reaches for the half-empty can of soda that sits on the coffee table and finishes it in two or three gulps.

© 2010

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Not really sure what this is. I’ve been wanting to write some “flash fiction” ever since I was exposed to Amelia Gray’s book of shorts “AM/PM” a few months ago. I’ve also wanted to see if and how characters develop when the writing takes on a distant, observational tone, relaying actions and words without adding any kind of meaning to them that an omniscient narrator or a first-person perspective allows. I kind of like this minimalistic form. I’ll see what comes of it.

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