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Flash Fiction
So I thought I'd try to do the "Story in under 200 words" thing. Turns out I hit 200 exactly.
I'm not particularly happy with this, but it was a fun exercise. Comments are welcome.
If the world had ever held any joy for him, it promptly stopped sometime between three and five PM Wednesday, Eastern Daylight time. The change was sudden, yet somehow not particularly shocking, as if whatever angel that held the post of supervising his happiness just punched out. Or perhaps quit, or was fired. He wasn't exactly certain how these things worked.
When he looked out the window the world was colorless, dull and miserable. Children did not laugh. Dogs did not play. The colors had faded, bleached out like the red Spiderman t-shirt that he had worn to rags as a grade-schooler.
He could not think of anything to do in the situation. It was both appalling and hopeless, completely unconscionable to any rational thought or solution. He called his mother.
“Oh dear,” she said after he explained the situation, “perhaps you’ll feel better after a nap.”
He slept slow and shallow but, when he awoke to the same dull and hateful world, he did indeed feel better about it. “At least I have my health,” he said aloud, “and you know what they say: ‘If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.’”
Moral: Listen to your mother.
I'm not particularly happy with this, but it was a fun exercise. Comments are welcome.
If the world had ever held any joy for him, it promptly stopped sometime between three and five PM Wednesday, Eastern Daylight time. The change was sudden, yet somehow not particularly shocking, as if whatever angel that held the post of supervising his happiness just punched out. Or perhaps quit, or was fired. He wasn't exactly certain how these things worked.
When he looked out the window the world was colorless, dull and miserable. Children did not laugh. Dogs did not play. The colors had faded, bleached out like the red Spiderman t-shirt that he had worn to rags as a grade-schooler.
He could not think of anything to do in the situation. It was both appalling and hopeless, completely unconscionable to any rational thought or solution. He called his mother.
“Oh dear,” she said after he explained the situation, “perhaps you’ll feel better after a nap.”
He slept slow and shallow but, when he awoke to the same dull and hateful world, he did indeed feel better about it. “At least I have my health,” he said aloud, “and you know what they say: ‘If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.’”
Moral: Listen to your mother.
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