Fiction Friday: Romantic Comedy

Six more sentences formed into a tidbit of fiction...

The bitch knew exactly where to punch him in his emotional gut to make it hurt. Battered and inwardly bruised, he swore off women entirely, resigning himself to a safe, easy life of singlehood. When he went to the animal shelter to rescue a replacement companion, the sweet-faced girl who opened the cages lingered as he signed out, mentioning the location of the dog park where she jogged. He looked at his canine passenger on the way home and asked, “This one will be different, right?” And even though the jack russell terrier looked doubtful, she turned out to be a different girl with a different outlook on different interests indeed. He panicked at all the differences, but finally realized he’d rather be there for her to punch than out of the game entirely.

Fiction Friday: Uptown

Six sentence fiction strikes again!

“I honestly don’t understand why the Nederlanders sold this place,” Priscilla mused over her imported coffee. It’s perfectly delightful, overlooks Central Park, and comes with a doorman who’s to die for.”

“For God’s sake, it’s haunted!” Janelle spat, clutching her Birkin bag to her chest in defense against the demons swirling around her, taunting her and her clueless friend with their gnashing teeth and blood-soaked eyes. “I know you wanted to move uptown, but you’re crazy if you stay another minute,” she cried and ran out the door, cowering under the onslaught.

“But they’re simply adjusting to change,” Priscilla called defiantly over her Prada clad shoulder, eyeing the otherworldly beings. “Eventually they’ll realize – I’m not going anywhere in this lifetime.”

Fiction Friday: Chinese Daughter

A six sentence fiction story in response to this Wall Street Journal article making the rounds on Facebook – Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior:

Chinese Daughter

When she couldn’t play the Moonlight Sonata without pausing to let her fingers catch up with her overworked brain, he told her she was a worthless piece of garbage. His harsh manner was a strategy learned from his parents to encourage his beloved child to practice more. He was puzzled when she went to college and stopped calling home, relating the news that she quit piano via text message. So he pushed harder, turning up the volume on his taunts and insults until he was screaming, wanting desperately for her to come back and play the music she played so beautifully all her life. He missed his daughter and hoped she knew how proud he’d always been of her. But he never got the chance to tell her before she slipped away entirely, moving across the world, never to return to play for him again.

Fiction Friday: Dear John

Another six sentence fiction story –

Dear John

I dreamt about you last night. My car had broken down and you came by on your bike and took my groceries. You said you’d see me at home, but then you took off in the wrong direction and turned down her street instead. Now I know you’ve said it will never happen again, but even in my dreams I don’t believe you. So why don’t we just stop trying to hold on to something that’s already gone. Do what you want – I’m taking my groceries home.

Fiction Friday: Adventurer

Perhaps you remember my brief attempt to write six word fiction? Well, I’ve discovered a new flash fiction challenge – six sentence fiction. Easier to write yet harder at the same time, though all around more satisfying to read. Peruse the offerings at Six Sentences and you’ll see what I mean.

The idea of crafting a beginning, middle, & end in six sentences excites my creative mind, so I’m going to try as many as I can until I’m published on Six Sentences. Here’s my first attempt, written late at night:

Adventurer

The globe in her father’s office was old, fading, and from an age of self-education and discovery that had long since moved online, but it was her father’s, so it always been her favorite thing as a child. She spun it lazily with the tips of her fingers, taking in all the countries that no longer existed – Yugoslavia, the USSR, one Korea – remembering all the nights she’d spent memorizing the places her father had traveled, preparing to regale him with her extensive knowledge of the exotic locales which he’d just been experiencing firsthand. It was a futile exercise – she could see that now – but her father had indulged her each time, smiling pleasantly through his pain, listening with all the focus he could muster in his exhausted state. “Being me has its downsides,” he’d always said, even though he’d be back out the door days later. She stared at the globe now, wondering where her father had lost his way so many years ago, and praying for the millionth time that he would eventually find his way home. Twenty-five years was far too long of an adventure, even for him.