I woke up this morning thinking I might try something new. New to me, that is. I’ve read about flash fiction, but never gave it a thought. I just thought the stories would be nothing more than mini short stories. That’s easy to say. Writing the thing is not quite that easy.
If I understand it correctly, flash fiction is a story of somewhere in the neighborhood of just a few words to something not greater than around 2,000 words. I get the feeling that the fewer words, the better. I’ve seen some contests that put a 300 word limit on submissions, so that is what I sat my goal at. Then I wrote.
I’ve been thinking. Yes, I know. That usually means trouble, but this has been bothering me for awhile (this pandemic crap is really playing with our minds, isn’t it?) Anyway, the thought that has been racing around the inside of my head is–suppose the guy who wrote the Mayan calendar was dyslexic. Instead of 12/21/12 he actually meant to write 12/12/21?
We might be in some serious trouble. I’m not even going to bother sending out Christmas cards this year. What’s the use?