Flash Fiction 365

WE HAVE A WINNER!

2010-03-01T15:11:00.000-08:00

It seems that 'Balancing Racks' is indeed the story of note from last year's experiment. At the behest of a friend, I entered an interesting 300-word-or-less writing contest back in December (the winner of said contest to see his or her story 'published' on a coffee mug and, of course, to receive some cold hard cash to boot). Earlier today I opened my email inbox and discovered that my story had been chosen! I can't wait to see what it looks like emblazoned on a mug (and how fitting that it will find a home there, considering the prominence of hot tea in the story).

Anyway, the contest was held by the very cool folks at Like Water Burning Press. Head over to their site and, if you're so inclined, order up a copy of their first journal of cutting edge writing (issue number two, which will include 'Balancing Racks' as well, goes on sale in December 2010).

Happy reading!

FLASH FORWARD!

2010-02-19T17:06:00.000-08:00

A while back I submitted three stories from FF365 to a great publication called Fast Forward (they put out collections of flash fiction, of the 1,000 words-or-less variety). Volumes 1 and 2 are already available and volume 3 is forthcoming in 2010. I am pleased to announce that the editors are including all three of my tiny tales in the upcoming volume.

The stories (Balancing Racks, 1976 and Where'd the Cheese Go?) are of my favorites from the project and I am proud to see them included in a cool publication. Thanks to my good friend, Christian Kiefer, for the tip back in December.

If you haven't yet migrated over to Woodside Village 52, there's no time like the present. It's well underway, with six vignettes already in place and more coming every week. It's a very different project than FF365, with all of the characters interrelating inside the physical and emotional geography of an apartment complex. Check it out.

AFOOT

2010-01-09T18:47:00.000-08:00

The new project for 2010 is up and rolling! Take a look at Woodside Village 52 when you have a chance, and if the mood strikes, follow along this year. While the intention is to write weekly vignettes (or character sketches), I'll likely wax and wane throughout the year, not exactly keeping to 52 total vignettes. The daily grind of last year is still clinging to my like a hangover and I need some breathing room. The title simply suggests that I'll be writing the collection during 52 weeks. The idea this time around is that the stories are connected via location (ergo Woodside Village, the collection of apartments and duplexes where the fictional inhabitants of the project reside). And while there are no dice this year, I am keeping things (relatively) short, each vignette being around 1,000 words. The first one is a whopping 543 words, which I must admit felt like a novel when I was writing it (2009 did strange things to the writing center in my brain and now anything over 88 words feels epic).

So, go! Enjoy! And thanks for reading.

NEW PROJECT!

2010-01-08T09:27:00.001-08:00

Okay, so it's been a week and I think I've decided on a new project. Here goes:

FF365 reader J.T. Quillan III suggested I write an on-going narrative, focused on a fixed geography and finite character roster. I think of Sherwood Anderson's 1919 book, Winesburg, Ohio. It's a series of something like 24 vignettes, each of which can stand alone, that concerns itself with a dozen or so residents of the fictional town. I also think of Sandra Cisneros' poetic novella, The House on Mango Street, which similarly illuminates the residents of a particular area (this time a barrio in Chicago). It's also a little like Edgar Lee Masters' poerty/theater masterwork, The Spoon River Anthology (a favorite of high schools and colleges for many years). And, finally, I think of Cynthia Rylant's Soda Jerk, a series of poems narrated by a single character that shed light on the other inhabitants of a small town.

So there it is; I'll do something like that. I've already missed the first week, so I'll have one to make up somewhere down the line. But the basic idea is that I'll write one story/vignette per week, totaling 52 at the end of 2K10.

The rules (because I have to include some): I'm loosening things up a bit this year, because I can't do the whole daily grind again. And I'm done with dice for awhile. So I've decided to continue with the "flash fiction" idea, but in a more traditional manner. Ergo, each weekly piece will come in under 1,000 words, with no self-imposed minimum requirement. I'm guessing, given my recent year of writing, that it might be some time before I near the 1,000 word mark. Some weeks, the episode might be in the range of 50 words, others 500. Hopefully, like the projects mentioned above, I'll have a meandering but connected collection of character studies that will together form the narrative of a place and time.

The nuts and bolts: I'm thinking I shouldn't continue to use the same blog address for this project, just to keep things clean and tidy. As soon as I have a name (i.e. location), I'll create a new blog under that moniker and link to it from here. My hope is that folks who have subscribed here will gladly pop over to the new blog and follow that project. If you have another idea for how I should tackle this part of it, please send me a comment or email and I'll consider all suggestions.

Finally, thank you to everyone who commented or emailed or Facebooked with ideas about how to approach a new project for a new year. My final decision was really a hybrid of many thoughts that came in; I just credit J.T. because he kind of rolled the many concepts into one in a succinct way.

See you on the other side!

NEW YEAR

2010-01-01T08:41:00.000-08:00

First, a hearty happy new year to everyone! Here's to a great 2010.

Second, I have a few ideas of how I might keep the blog alive without robbing from the luster of the 2009 project. But before I decide on how to proceed, I'd like to hear from you. Send me thoughts, ideas, concepts, challenges, etc. and I'll figure something out in the next few days. Note that I will not be rolling the old dice, nor will I be taking on daily writing (I have other, longer writing projects to keep my days busy). I look forward to hearing your suggestions.

Thanks again for reading.

Best,

Jason Sinclair Long

(P.S. Apologies to Mary Bond for inadvertently forgetting to credit her with the title, "Sassy Pants." The error has been remedied.)

STORY # 365 (31 words)

2009-12-31T16:07:00.000-08:00

PERFECT LANDING

Ass kicked in high school, heart broken in college, mind numbed by the work place, you take it on the sleeve and move back home, where the endless circle finally ends.

(title submitted by Thomas Schroeder)

ALL'S WELL

2009-12-31T14:41:00.000-08:00

It's been one hell of a trip, that's for sure. A year ago, I opened up an old sleeve of gaming dice and retrieved two seemingly benevolent pieces of plastic from within, held them in my cupped hand for a moment and thought, Can I even make it past two weeks? I know now that if not for this blog and, more importantly, you readers, the answer would have been a resounding no. Oh, I don't know, I might have made it through a month, give or take a day; but after the first few skipped stories...well, you know the rest. So, first and foremost, thank you to everyone who stopped by for a tale or two, and an extra-colossal thanks to all those who signed up and stuck with it. Special gratitude to anyone who submitted a title idea during the December challenge, and to anyone who left comments throughout the year. I realize that some of you have only recently come to the project, since the recent media coverage; I hope you enjoy going back and catching up on older stories and posts. I know that my own reaction will assuredly be one of good humor, shock, embarrassment, pride, and maybe boredom as I pour over the tome of tiny tales herein. (I can say that on one occasion I randomly selected a few stories from months ago and it was very much like reading another author's work; I think the daily ritual, coupled with the extreme brevity and overall business of life, has resulted in my entering a kind of daze when I write these stories--such that I can't really remember writing most of them.)

A little about today's roll then: Lottie (my wife), Camper (our son), and I drove up to Kirkwood (near South Lake Tahoe) yesterday for a visit with our good friends, the Olivers. While packing for the overnighter, I managed to slip my dice into the pocket of my green lunch "box" (it's one of those insulated, zippered deals one might find for sale at a local outdoorsy merchant). My intention was to roll the dice this morning, as we all lounged in our PJ's, sipping coffee and tea, looking out across the snow-covered meadow cradled against our lodge. Before I knew it, though, we were packed and heading home. Ah well, no harm really. I've rolled at home almost every other day this past year (vacations notwithstanding), so I'd take care of it when we arrived. The drive home was rough on Camper (he didn't sleep much last night and is two-and-a-half, so only ever wants to play), as well as Lottie (she's pregnant with our second son), so upon returning, they both fell immediately asleep. Left to my devices, I unpacked a bit, retrieved my dice and tossed them onto the floor. At first I thought, Oh...a 31. So, that's how this journey ends. Then I remembered that 31 was one of the second-place winners for high frequency rolling this year (see below for more on that), and that this roll launched it into a tie with the current frontrunner, 48. And then I remembered that this is the last story of the year, the final installment, the culminating chapter. Thus, it had better be damned good. ( After a year of doing this, I have come to realize that, even though many of these smaller (read: under 48 words) stories are solid, many suffer because of the ridiculous word limitations.) Suddenly, I was stressed. I realized I had to somehow cap this 365-day-long project with some kind of monumental tale in only 31 words? Impossible. And it is. The build-up is just too great. There's just no conceivable way to get better and better with each passing day, regardless of the roll of the dice, regardless of being sick or tired or temporarily over it (and I can now say that there were many days, nay weeks, when I felt over the whole thing).

At any rate, I mention it all because not until after I wrote the story and logged on to post it did I realize that I'd rolled a 31 on the 31st. And what's worse, I did it alone, with my only witnesses fast asleep. So this one's on the honor system. Obviously I have no reason to lie, but just in case some naysayer out there (yeah, you, I know you're reading this) thinks incredulous thoughts regarding such a serendipitous roll...know that it really happened. Or at least that those are the numbers my eyes saw when that green die and that gray die landed on 3 and 1, respectively, on our living room floor. So it goes.

And now (drumroll, please) to the numbers! Having kept track of how many times possible numbers were rolled, I can now look back at certain patterns or instances that may or may not have any significance beyond luck and math. Either way, here goes:

[Note: Some of my math may be off, as I am anything but a mathlete.]

My first 11 was rolled on February 18 (that story, #49, can be found here). I subsequently rolled 11 seven more times, totaling eight in the year.

The max number, 88, first graced the blog on February 23, where it became one of my personal favorites: Balancing Racks (story # 54). I went on to roll 88 five more times (for a total of six).

The "holdout" number, 71, was the last to be rolled; this happened all the way in August, on the 14th (that story is here).

From January 1 to January 20, I didn't repeat any previous rolls; on January 21, I rolled my second 31 (go here for that one, story # 21).

My first repeat rolls (i.e. rolling the same number twice in a row) were February 8 and 9, when I rolled 66 both days (the first one is here, the next there).

The first time I rolled consecutive sequenced numbers came in April when I rolled a 45 on the 13th and a 46 on the 14th. Oddly, April became quite the sequence month, as I rolled consecutive numbers (for two-day runs) three times! Even more oddly, several days ago, I rolled my one and only three-day sequence (December 24, 25, and 26) which went 44, 45, 46 (notice any resemblance to the first one back in April?).

And finally, there was a tie for both least- and most-rolled numbers. The three least-rolled were 13, 62, and 71 (each only being rolled only twice). The most rolled honor (after today's roll, of course) is shared by 31 and 48 (both coming up a whopping ten times this year).

I rolled odd numbers 182 times and evens 183 times (that's some seriously balanced rolling).

Lastly, the total number of words written (titles not included) this year was: 18,123. That's not even enough to qualify for one half of a NaNoWriMo project (and it took me a whole year)!

Okay. That about does it. Thank you again, readers all, for sharing your time with me and my little project this year. I'm not sure what the new year holds for Flash Fiction 365, but I will certainly stop by from time to time and post something or other.

Be seeing you....

STORY # 364 (67 words)

2009-12-30T11:06:00.001-08:00

SASSY PANTS

Everyone tells her they’re hideous, but there’s just something about them.
First day wearing them she’s asked out three times and offered free swim lessons at the Y.
That night she folds them neatly, tucks them into a drawer, whispers sweet nothings into their pockets.
She’s walloped by their true colors when she wakes in the night and finds them making out with one of her sweaters.

(title submitted by Mary Bond)

BENDING GENRES

2009-12-30T10:52:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this is probably my weirdest story this year (but for some reason I love it). It's like a hybrid of chic lit and magical realism (mag-chical lit-ism?), a new genre that I'm sure will take the publishing world by storm in 2010. And you can say you saw it here first! Actually, I'm sure someone has written stories (maybe even novels) in this form before. Nothing is new under the sun, right?

Anyway, just one day left. As you've already surmised, I received a new story title for today (and, yes, another one for tomorrow). So that's all done. It's just a matter now of rolling the dice one last time and seeing what comes out. Some readers have suggested different ideas for the final story (like writing one 365 words long, or rolling three dice, or posting multiple stories in a single day); but I think I'll keep true to the whole experiment and end on a regular roll-and-write session.

Thanks for reading and here's to tomorrow!

STORY # 363 (65 words)

2009-12-29T20:24:00.000-08:00

PROUST REDUXST

Madeleine Swann, or Maddy as she’d been known through school, desired to be an artist.
Or at least to be considered one by others.
Unfortunately, she sucked at just about everything—except seducing women, which she did with enviable frequency.
She realized one morning, as she lay half-dreaming, that she had in fact made an art of it.
Younger Maddy would have been so proud.

(title submitted by Christian Kiefer)

THE VOYAGE HOME

2009-12-29T19:14:00.000-08:00

Well, it looks like the whole reader-submitted title challenge, while being a most excellent challenge indeed, has come up just a tad short of the goal. Today marks the first day I had to repeat readers, as I put a second title option from Christian Kiefer to use*. That all sounds very dramatic, I know, but it's really no big deal. In fact, early on I thought I would probably have to dip back into the reader list multiple times (some people submitted 5 or 6 titles--which thankfully led to a gem of a story borne of the many excellent choices submitted by Davey Holmes). I've already chosen two more for the last two days, but would gladly consider using something else should a new submitter come along.

On another note, it appears the story from the Sacramento Bee has been reprinted in (at least) to other newspapers: The Tennessean (from Nashville) and The Times Reader (from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania). It's the same story in all three places, so there's really no need to follow the links, unless of course you have some weird obession with re-reading stories from multiple sources.

O.K. then. That's all I have for now. Oh yeah, I've put together a list of how many times I rolled each possible number. I figure that, on the last day, I'll post some stats (for people who like that sort of thing). You know, how many times I rolled eleven (eight times, so far)...that kind of stuff. I might even add up all the word counts and post a total. Just because.

* I chose Christian's title because of its simple brilliance. In fact, I wanted to use it last time (when I finally settled, instead, on "Goose Attack"), but got scared because it's such an amazing title, I felt I couldn't write anything to live up to it. But I love a challenge, so today I thought about Proust and his epic seven-part novel and realized that I could come up with something after all. It's the title I just couldn't let get away. And you don't necessarily have to have read Proust to "get it." At least I hope not.

STORY # 362 (42 words)

2009-12-28T20:32:00.000-08:00

IN THE DARK I CAN SEE…

“You can see what?”
“An animal, I think.”
“Where?”
“Over there. In the dark.”
“It’s midnight. It’s dark everywhere.”
“Duh, smart-ass. Over where it’s darkest, in the trees.”
“What kind of animal?”
“Don’t know. Big one.”
“It’s coming this way!”
“Oh, fu—!”

(title submitted by Susie Whitlock)

STORY # 361 (75 words)

2009-12-27T21:13:00.000-08:00

BOK! BOK! CHICKEN TIME!

It was just one of those things that no one thought would go bad.
But then it did.
Eddie Ray, who lived in the trailer park with his drunken broken dad and was rumored to have had sex with a college girl, was the challenger.
Curtis Lang, resident of Darkwood Estates and driver a brand new BMW, accepted with a grin.
I guess it could have been worse; they both could have gone with pitchforks.

(title submitted by Elise Ryerson, even if it was accidental)

WHEW!

2009-12-27T21:02:00.000-08:00

No more 40's! At least for now. I feel like a curse has been lifted or something. I was white-knuckled and sweaty-palmed before I rolled today. Lottie was in the kitchen and I walked in nervously shaking the dice in my cupped hand. Saying something like, "Here we go, I guess," I rolled the bones. And rejoiced at the wondrous 75 staring up at me.

Anyway, today's title wasn't supposed to be a title (at least I don't think so). Elise (I think accidentally) responded to a Facebook thread regarding the FF365 title challenge with "Bok! Bok! Chicken time!" because she had recently received her baby chicks and was ready to embark on the chicken-raising journey. Either way, it was in the thread, so I took the challenge. Got it?

Just four stories to go! I can't believe the end is so close. It's very strange, this feeling of an impending end to things. I know, of course, I can always write more stories. But I know I don't have it in me to keep going, daily, rolling the dice. The whole point was to confine the experiment to one year, so to trod on in even a semi-daily manner would defeat the purpose. I think I have to cut it off, cold turkey (meaning the whole dice = length thing). I will certainly still post something at some point. Perhaps commentary on my quest to find a publisher. That kind of thing. And I still might do one story a month (longer ones, of course, sans dice); just haven't decided yet. Either way, it's been a great project (so far), and I look forward to these last few rolls...and subsequent stories.

As always thanks for reading.

STORY # 360 (46 words)

2009-12-26T17:23:00.000-08:00

FALLING STARS

One thing Kalen never understood was making wishes.
What a waste, devoting effort without possibility of affecting change.
And here he was, in a vast desert, camping with a bunch of wishers.
He was zipped in his tent and snoring before they counted their first dozen.

(title submitted by Kelley Darrah Kordonowy)

SLIPPING INTO THE TWILIGHT ZONE

2009-12-26T17:13:00.000-08:00

Seemingly impossible, I know. Or, at very least, outstandingly implausible. But the proof is in the rolling, and on my honor I did roll my first (and probably only) triple-consecutive sequence. All I can say is that if I roll a 47 tomorrow, I will finally bow down to the numbers gods and do something extremely outlandish. I'm not even sure what that means, but it would certainly be some kind of sign if I were to continue my streak. Hell, I'll even think it quite bizarre if it's anything in the 40's (considering the frequency of others in that realm this past week). I'll assuredly have Lottie in the room again (as she has been pretty much all year) when I roll tomorrow. Because, you know what, people? This is getting weird.

Oh yeah, I also still have room for another three titles (unless I'm to dip back into previous readers' entries, as some folks offered multiple ideas). I'll do it if I have to, but I was so hoping to write thirty-one different stories based on titles from thirty-one different readers.

STORY # 359 (45 words)

2009-12-25T18:12:00.000-08:00

LAST MINUTE

For ninety years Walter hated Christmas.
But his great-granddaughter’s due date of December 25th (and her promise to name the new boy Walter) changed things.
Despite ensuing death, the old man held on long enough for the new baby to breathe one minute of life.

(title submitted by Peggy Weber)

P.S. - Yes, I really and truly rolled a 45 today, thus continuing my strange streak of rolling numbers in the 40's (not to mention my 44 just yesterday). Because it just seemed so unbelievable, I considered using a second roll (which came up 28), but Lottie, who witnessed the whole event, thankfully talked me out of it. Oh yeah, and also, Happy Christmas.

STORY # 358 (44 words)

2009-12-24T16:34:00.000-08:00

IT’S A WONDERFUL KNIFE, or THE OLD GRANGER HOUSE

My grandfather is twenty years dead.
Today I got his great-grandfather’s knife back.
The rumor: old Teddy Granger had hidden it under his floorboards.
So I waited.
Finally, Granger died.
Tore the place apart before I found it.
Tonight, a toast to heirloom justice.

(titles submitted by Adam Harrington)

EVE

2009-12-24T16:20:00.000-08:00

Today's titles come from Adam Harrington, who suggested both to me in the same email. I was immediately drawn to the one about the knife, so that's where I focused. But then, as I tried several different ideas, that old Granger character kept creeping in somehow. It seemed such a natural match. But then how to get the whole sordid backstory in just 44 words? I drafted it out (in around 100 or so), including a poker game in St. Louis (which would have changed to Chicago or Detroit to save a word), where the famed knife was lost due to a tactical error (bluffs be damned). Finally, I realized it didn't matter how Granger came to possess the knife (and, of course, it simply couldn't matter--even if I had wanted it to--because of story length). The center of the conflict was that he had the thing and that the narrator wanted it back--nay, needed to get it back. It's not exactly a very "Christmas Evey" tale, but I'm not exactly a conventional guy when it comes to following "rules."

Anyway, thanks Adam, for two great titles that taste great together. And thanks to you (yes, you) for stopping by for a quick read. Happy Holidays to all!

STORY # 357 (34 words)

2009-12-23T16:26:00.000-08:00

IN MY DREAMS, NOTHING STINKS

The Machine was finally ready.
Decades of testing were about to pay off.
Isra connected electrodes to her temples and reclined into her physical body’s new home.
She pressed a button, dreamed.
Never awoke.

(title submitted by Mimi Franklin Musso)

STORY # 356 (48 words)

2009-12-22T19:15:00.000-08:00

BOUM! DERP!

By the time Charlie realized Mrs. Gaviston wasn’t the one who turned him in, it was too late.
He’d already rigged the device to go off under her desk minutes after the bell rang.
He counted himself the luckiest kid in school that the heart attack wasn’t fatal.

(title submitted by Melody Yourd)

LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION!

2009-12-22T18:59:00.000-08:00

So this title comes to me via one of my students (who also happens to be a reader of FF365). The two words together (sans punctuation) recently described an end-of-the-term party thrown by my Professional Drama class. I'm not exactly sure how the name came to be, but the event quickly became known as a (or perhaps the) Boum Derp. A little googling and I was able to locate a few definitions. According to a free translation site, the word "boum" (in French, anyway) means something similar to "bang!" Derp is a little less official: the online urban dictionary I found provides no fewer than 31 definitions (some are very similar and most relate either to idiotic behavior or bad jokes). The most popular definitions equate "derp" to something like Homer Simpson's ultra-famous utterance, "D'oh!" To better facilitate my tiny tale, I went with this definition and added some punctuation for dramatic effect. Oh yeah, and because the title came from a student, I decided to locate the story in a classroom. So there.

STORY # 355 (41 words)

2009-12-21T19:05:00.000-08:00

GRIDLOCK

As worldviews grew increasingly pessimistic (drinkable water drying up), Suicide Booth lines grew longer.
Writhing masses of Customers jostled their way towards certain death.
Then, overloaded, everything stopped working.
And a little girl with hope for eyes started pulling people away.

(title submitted by Al Jacobus)

STORY # 354 (18 words)

2009-12-20T13:05:00.000-08:00

HAIRY PEENY

Everyone either giggled or sneered, convinced the toddler was describing his dad.
“He means the dog.”
Uh-huh.
Sure.

(title "submitted" by Camper Aston Long)

KIDS SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS

2009-12-20T12:51:00.000-08:00

A short explanation might be in order here, as today's title was not submitted by a reader but rather was uttered (over and over again) by our 2-year-old son, Camper. And much like the toddler in the story, ours was describing a dog he saw at the park. Well, more accurately, he was repeating something a little girl at the dog park was saying (as she, in fact, described a dog's anatomy). To my knowledge, no one has sneered (but a few have giggled) at Camper's new favorite phrase, but the tale needed some "conflict" to be more interesting.

The rolls are getting into the short-zone again, today's being on the more difficult side (but obviously not quite as bad as they can be). I'm still in need of a few more titles, so send them in if you have them. Otherwise, I can always start to repeat readers, as some folks have submitted multiple ideas. I would, however, prefer to turn titles from 31 different people into stories.

STORY # 353 (55 words)

2009-12-19T17:59:00.000-08:00

FIAT SLUG

Sure, Tyler swore he’d never cruise in his new car on “that” side of town.
His parents were incessant with their warnings of the dangers lurking there.
Of course it didn’t take long before Tyler crossed the threshold.
He thought he’d gotten away with it until his dad pulled a bullet from the rear fender.

(title submitted by Satya Onorato)

FALLING SHORT

2009-12-19T17:48:00.001-08:00

Today's title comes to me by way of a fellow graduate of UC Santa Cruz. For those who might not know, the college's official mascot is the banana slug. But that wasn't always the case (go here if you're interested in the great mascot coup of the 1980's). Anyway, true to my attempts to subvert these reader-submitted titles, I came up with this tiny tale. Honestly, I wish I had more time to develop my thoughts on this one, but with the holidays here and family staying with us, time is but a fleeting ghost. I'd like to think that a title as dear to my heart as this one might find a home with a really strong story. Alas, while not exactly a disappointment, today's little epic falls just a bit short for me. Maybe I should have just gone with the whole "Let There Be Slug" motif. Oh well, thanks for reading anyway.

STORY # 352 (65 words)

2009-12-18T20:12:00.000-08:00

THE THOUSAND-DOLLAR PRUNE PIT

The morning Belinda Jenkins found it everybody was at her trailer within minutes.
Cherry Snodgrass crossed herself twenty times.
Timmy Jones fell to his knees in reverence.
“It’s the Virgin.”
The line of locals stretched along Highway 3 from the park entrance to Big Al’s Roadside Grill.
Finally, when the fervor died down, Belinda took hold of her destiny and fetched a grand on eBay.

(title submitted by Kalen Allmandinger)

STORY # 351 (25 words)

2009-12-17T18:32:00.000-08:00

1989

The world changed.
Forever.
The Berlin Wall came crashing down.
The first gay marriage was recognized.
And I made out with Chloe Canter.
Seven times.

(title submitted by Donna Morello)

TRIBUTE

2009-12-17T18:19:00.000-08:00

Despite my efforts to find alternative meanings or directions for the submitted titles, today's tale takes the more obvious road. I tried penning a sci-fi cautionary tale wherein Android #1989 breaks down in a very scary way, but it didn't feel right (in fact, it felt more like a ripoff of the underrated early 70's flick, Westworld). Then I considered drafting something about a sexually prolific male escort (his number of clients ranking in the very high 1,980's), but that was too Hung. Of course, the resultant story is derivitive of either John Hughes or perhaps Freaks and Geeks. I just can't win tonight; this was a tough nut to crack. Touché, Donna Morello. Touché.

(I should admit here that, while the flash fiction today isn't the best title-twist, I do still like the story. And to everyone who's been hoping for a nice, low number to really challenge this whole title submission thing...you got your wish. Well, somewhat. I'm sure there's a juicy 13 waiting in wings.)

STORY # 350 (73 words)

2009-12-16T18:34:00.000-08:00

D20; SAVING THROW

“Whole building’s in flames!” a man in boxers yelps.
“My grandmother’s sofa!” an elderly woman cries.
Some firefighters appear, sprinting from the building toward the crowd.
They’re carrying rescued babies and pets.
And one holds an elegant square pillow aloft.
A man steps forward, cheeks tear-stained.
“You D20?” the fireman asks.
“Yes.”
“Here.”
He hands the pillow over, turns to go.
“Where’s my cat?”
“Cat? You said to save your throw.”
“Noooooooooo! Thoreau!”

(title submitted by Jonathan Taylor)

WORDPLAY

2009-12-16T18:22:00.000-08:00

On the radio today I told Jeffrey Callison that I try to turn these submitted titles into something other than the obvious interpretation. In this case, the D20 was in reference to a 20-sided gaming die and, likewise, the term "saving throw" (in role-playing parlance) is a roll of dice used to determine whether things like magic or poison are effective against a character. So rather than compose a story about gaming or dice, I backed away from the terms a bit and imagined other possibilities. And just before giving up on the idea completely, it hit me that "throw" had a literary (or at least auditory) doppelganger in Thoreau. It's all a bit punny, I know, but I couldn't resist.

It was also mentioned on today's interview that I seem to be blessed with mostly high rolls so far during this December challenge. It is true, but know this: because of the high numbers appearing even in the first week or so, I have been very careful to roll the dice in the company of witnesses (my mom, for instance, was here for the 88 last week; and my wife, Lottie, has watched me roll almost every other number--including tonight's 73, another very high word count, to be sure). I'm sure a nice, mind-numbing 11 or 12 is in my near future. Submit a story title (make it a doozy, if you please) and see if it falls on one of the super shorties.

STORY # 349 (77 words)

2009-12-15T19:25:00.000-08:00

MISTAKE # 4, or MOPED, or THE EXHILARANT, or HIS BEST QUALITIES, or A SCHEDULE OF TRANSACTIONS, or TWO EXCELLENT WAYS TO PUNISH YOURSELF

Having been forgiven thrice for similar transgressions, Roger thoroughly tested Blaire’s leniency this time.
Even his impressive bedroom dexterity—the thread holding them together through past troubles—couldn’t fix things.
In repentance, Roger scheduled meetings with all three therapists (for which he’d pay through the nose), as well as underwent the requisite self-discipline (one part pleasurable pain, one part painful pleasure).
Blaire remained incredulous: “With a moped?”
Roger simply nodded, unable to articulate the exhilaration involved.

(titles submitted by Davey Holmes)

A WORD ON TODAY'S TITLE(S)

2009-12-15T19:15:00.000-08:00

Well, several, really.

Act one, in which friend and fellow writer, Davey Holmes, sends in a whopping six possible titles.

Act Two, in which Jason can't decide between them and so, after rolling a 77, decides to compose a draft utilizing three of the six.

Act Three, in which a second (and then a third) draft reveals the possibility that all six titles might be able to find homes here.

Indeed, it is reader's choice: any of the six titles can work with today's tiny tale. You decide which works best for you and go with that. Me, I like all six.

P.S. - It looks like I'll be returning to Insight with Jeffrey Callison tomorrow; just a short follow-up to last week's story (and I think I'm going to be reading "Whirling Dervishes," the story titled by Jeffrey last Wednesday on the air). Again, the show airs from 10:00 to 11:00 AM locally on 90.9 FM, or streamed live at http://www.capradio.org.

STORY # 348 (48 words)

2009-12-14T20:33:00.000-08:00

AMAREVOLE

He lifted the arm, set needle into groove.
The crackle and hiss of old vinyl acted as prelude to the music.
He closed his eyes.
The first note (her favorite part) sang out and he remembered holding her in his arms.
Every year, once a year, this ritual.

(title submitted by Barry Crider)

YOU ARE THE BITTER, I AM THE SWEET

2009-12-14T20:17:00.000-08:00

These rolls are getting weird (again). It's happened a few times throughout the year. First, I keep coming up with really high numbers, several landing in the 80's in the last two weeks. Then, today comes up 48 and it's story # 348. Most of you are probably reading this and saying to yourself, "So what?" And you're right. It's not like I'm going to drive to Reno and bet a bunch of money on derivations of 4 and 8 (and maybe 3). Nor will I be plagued by dreams about the repeated numbers (well, now I will, but only because I've put so much time into writing about them, not because of the rolls themselves).

Anyway, for those interested: Amarevole is an Italian musical term that, according to two different sources, means "with bitterness, poignantly" or "pleasantly bitter." So, to me, that sounds like a cooler, more European version of bittersweet, no? It may also interest you to know that San Jose eighth-grader Ramya Auroprem misspelled the word earlier this year, thus dashing her own dreams of winning the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Bitter, yes, but I wonder if there was any pleasantness in the defeat. Probably not.

And, finally, for anyone interested, the Sacramento Bee ran a story on this project in today's paper (and on the website). That link is here: http://www.sacbee.com/topstories/story/2393154.html#none

STORY # 347 (82 words)

2009-12-13T17:25:00.000-08:00

HOT PEPPERS

At thirteen, Kirsten imagined love was like getting pushed off a cliff.
You knew it might happen (you were standing near the edge after all); but when it did, you still lost your breath.
At nineteen, it felt more like eating a mouthful of hot peppers.
You chose whether to eat, and once you did, only the strongest kept chewing.
At thirty-seven, love was a boxing match.
Still, every so often, she stood in her garden, munching jalapenos just the same.

(title submitted by Nichola Owens)

ODDS AND ENDS

2009-12-13T17:21:00.000-08:00

Despite the odds, today's roll really was 82. But, in all honesty, I didn't roll it; my son did. I just can't believe how many have come up in the 70's and 80's since this December challenge started. Here's to hoping I continue to get beefy numbers, so I can thoroughly develop your titles. It's tough to find an appropriate ending to something so short when someone else has supplied the name (read: direction) of the thing.

Thanks for visiting and reading. If you haven't submitted a title, please do! I'm running low and we're not even half way through December.

STORY # 346 (83 words)

2009-12-12T20:39:00.000-08:00

A TRIP, A TRAP, AND SPAGHETTI

It was Friday and school had been out less than an hour.
Henry Dutch, local dealer extraordinaire, traded us three hits of windowpane for a Steely Dan record and Ted’s dad’s watch.
By midnight we were in the woods seeing tracers against the full moon.
It was Lanny who found the raccoon, its leg snared between two iron jaws.
We tried to set it free, not trusting our own dexterity to follow through.
Ted fed it pasta until animal control saved the day.

(title submitted by J.T. Quillan III)

STORY # 345 (88 words)

2009-12-11T17:23:00.000-08:00

FUNK NOT ONLY MOVES, IT CAN REMOVE…DIG?

When Lynda first found the stuff it was a seemingly insignificant dollop of mold in the corner of the windowsill.
After weeks, she set out to clean it, only to find that it had inexplicably moved to the opposite corner.
“I need sleep,” Lynda muttered as she doused the funk with spray and wiped it away.
Next morning, it was back, three times the size and nestled in the living room’s crown molding.
She fought it for months, finally giving up and relocating after it consumed the cat.

(title submitted by Andy Aston)

STORY # 344 (22 words)

2009-12-10T15:27:00.000-08:00

LAND, GRANT!

Above the treetops now.
Neighborhood kids yelling: “Grant!”
Floating higher.
“Grant!” mother cries.
By nightfall, he is a speck against the moon.

(title submitted as "Land Grant" by Bradly Nabors)

STORY # 343 (65 words)

2009-12-09T17:06:00.000-08:00

WHIRLING DERVISHES

Another argument.
Dennis should have seen the discussion’s detonation coming.
And Shelia knew she was arguing just to argue but kept on anyway, propelled by her own racing heart.
“—can’t continue like this!”
“Neither can I!” Dennis screamed.
Instead of fleeing the scene, he closed his eyes, started to spin.
Sheila watched, stunned, silenced.
Finally, she joined him.
They were still spinning when morning arrived.

(title suggested by Jeffrey Callison)

EASE ON DOWN THE ROAD

2009-12-09T16:48:00.000-08:00

Thanks again to Jeffrey Callison and all the nice folks at Capital Public Radio for inviting me on Insight* this morning (and for an intriguing title** for today's story). It was a great show, per usual. And it led to a reporter from the Sacramento Bee calling up for an interview (another very exciting prospect).

So now I'm faced with this feeling that the project is picking up a bit of momentum just in time for the plug to be pulled on the 31st. I suppose pulling the plug is a tad harsh; it's not like I'm abandoning the thing by the side of the road. Maybe this is just what I need: something to force my hand, make up my mind about the project's future. I could go with the story-a-month idea and post 12 longer-form (read: traditional) short stories. Maybe they could be elongated versions of 12 of my favorite stories herein; perhaps they could maintain their own identities, unattached to any of these tiny tales, floating happily in their own spaces. Not exactly sure where to go with it, but I am contacting some agents and publishers to see if there's any interest in putting them out as they are: one fat collection of flash fiction.

At any rate, thanks for tuning in and checking out the project. Feel free to send me title ideas, as I still need some to fill out the month.

* If you missed the interview on Insight, you can check it out here. Not sure how long it will be active, but at least for now this link should take you to the right place. http://www.capradio.org/programs/insight

** This is what I found on whirling dervishes (in case you were interested in more on the term). I'm not sure if it helps today's story make more or less sense.

Whirling Dervish (wurl-ing dur-vish) n. 1. A mystical dancer who stands between the material and cosmic worlds. His dance is part of a sacred ceremony in which the dervish rotates in a precise rhythm. He represents the earth revolving on its axis while orbiting the sun. The purpose of the ritual whirling is for the dervish to empty himself of all distracting thoughts, placing him in trance; released from his body he conquers dizziness.

(P.S. - The initial posted draft of this story had a significant and confusing typo. Dennis was suddenly and inexplicably referred to as "Devin," an error that I have now remedied. How embarrassing!)

STORY # 342 (56 words)

2009-12-08T20:30:00.000-08:00

ACTIVATE PROJECT Z

Jacob notoriously wrote himself into obviously implausible adventures and tried to sell his friends on them.
Over the years they’d suffered tales of gangsters and gangstas, agents of both secrecy and the FBI, Russian acrobats and Spanish dwarves.
They were all understandably shocked when Jacob responded to a text and within seconds vanished before their eyes.

(title submitted by Scott Namanny)

THE HOST WITH THE MOST

2009-12-08T20:19:00.000-08:00

Perhaps I should have posted something about this before now, but tomorrow morning I will be interviewed on Sacramento's own NPR station, Capital Public Radio (aka KXJZ) 90.9 FM. The show, Insight, is a daily, in-depth interview program hosted by Capital Public Radio's Jeffrey Callison, providing context and background to the issues that face our region. I love the show and am honored to be invited on to discuss this whole FF365 project. If you're in the area, tune in on your radio. Otherwise, you can log on to http://www.capradio.org and stream the interview. Oh yeah, the show runs from 10:00 to 11:00 am tomorrow morning (but I think they offer a link to the recorded show throughout the day).

Once again, thanks for reading!

P.S. - Yeah, I rolled 56 two days in a row. I think it's been awhile since I repeated word count two days running. Tune in tomorrow and see if I can pull a trifecta of sorts (I'm saving my roll until I'm in the studio so we can all feel the pizazz of live radio)!

STORY # 341 (56 words)

2009-12-07T16:54:00.000-08:00

GOOSE ATTACK!

“No way.”
“I’m telling you, a whole damn flock!”
“Gaggle.”
“Huh?”
“Geese in a group are a gaggle.”
“Seriously?”
“Everyone knows that.”
“I thought birds were a flock.”
“Seagulls, yeah. Not all birds.”
“Like what else?”
“A murder of crows.”
“These geese thought they were crows then.”
“They attacked you?”
“Among other things.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”

(title submitted by Christian Kiefer)

STORY # 340 (63 words)

2009-12-06T15:24:00.000-08:00

WHERE’D THE CHEESE GO?

None of them could remember why they started calling Grandpa “the cheese” in the first place.
But that was the last thing on their minds the night he disappeared.
Hours of panic, phone calls to friends, combing the neighborhood… nothing.
It was after midnight when he emerged from the attic burdened with newspaper clippings of the old days and cheeks full of tears.

(title submitted by Lottie Aston)

STORY # 339 (74 words)

2009-12-05T17:27:00.000-08:00

BUCKY CALLED DIBS

We were all totally jealous and still arguing over seconds when Bucky picked it up.
Vic swears his tongue was pressed against his teeth ready to call it first, but then he swallowed his gum and got beat to the punch.
And Danielle found it in the first place.
But it was Bucky who pulled the trigger and whose eyes glazed over and skin grew waxen after something inside the gun went all screwy.

(title submitted by Raj Hundal)

STORY # 338 (83 words)

2009-12-04T11:22:00.000-08:00

GAM CHAMMLEMAN TAKES BACK HIS TIME

It took nearly eleven years, but he did it.
First, the teachers who had stolen so many hours with lectures and brainwashing.
Next, the bus drivers and flight attendants who had incessantly made him wait.
Finally, the girl at the diner who never seemed to notice him without prodding.
He buried them all in the back yard, sat staring at the sky.
The light from the sun soaked into his hair, which he noticed had somewhere along the way turned a radiant gray.

(title submitted by Michael Rahhal)

STORY # 337 (48 words)

2009-12-03T09:34:00.000-08:00

THE DAY SAM BECKETT DIED

“What’s his name?”
“Beckett.”
“Like the playwright?”
“Exactly.”
“How’d he die?”
“The playwright?”
“No, this one.”
“Oh. Don’t know.”
“Mysterious.”
“Seems that way.”
“First name?”
“Sam.”
“No, this guy’s first name.”
“Yeah, I know. Sam.”
“Oh, exactly like the playwright.”
“Yeah.”
“Well? Shall we go?”
“Yes, let’s go.”

(title submitted by John Deaderick)

STORY # 336 (28 words)

2009-12-02T13:14:00.000-08:00

HEATHCLIFF, GODZILLA, GIRLS, DETROIT: A MEMOIR

I could go on forever, but I’ll just let the sequence of events speak for itself.
Suffice to say, we started out in Stockton reading the funny pages.

(title submitted by Dylan Holcomb)

STORY # 335 (33 words)

2009-12-01T11:37:00.000-08:00

IN FLEW THE ELEGANCE

None of them could believe what they were seeing.
Everyone knew spaceships were supposed to be enormous.
But here the tiny craft hovered, above the kitchen sink, its name inscribed inexplicably in English.

(title submitted by Dylan Oliver)

...AND HE'S OFF!

2009-12-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

So today begins the final push, coupled with the final challenge. I found myself hoping for a beefy roll in the 80's today, so I might really explore the possibilities suggested by Dylan's title. It's a satisfying combination of words: flew and elegance. Ultimately I'm thankful that it wasn't attached to a gender (as in In Flew His/Her Elegance), as the The allowed for my final interpretation. And it's in the interpretive arena that I'm finding the fun in this challenge (at least so far, on day one). Hopefully I can keep up; some of the upcoming titles are going to tax my creative juices, to be sure (especially if I start rolling really low word counts). I'm up to eleven titles now, so twenty more people have to crawl out of the woodwork with ideas. Please. Thank you.

STORY # 334 (65 words)

2009-11-30T12:07:00.000-08:00

A.P.R.P.

“What’s wrong with me? Where am I?”
“You’ve undergone a procedure.”
“Procedure?”
“Your mind has been bathed and fettled.”
“What?”
“Realigned. Understand?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Before.”
“No. I…”
“Yes?”
“There’s nothing.”
“Excellent. Just as you requested.”
“Requested?”
“This is your signature, yes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Executive order 11682-A, American Public Realignment Procedure. Your test was successful, Mr. President. The rest will follow.”

TOMORROW

2009-11-30T11:55:00.001-08:00

As long as I continue to receive story name ideas from readers, today's entry will be the last story I'll title myself. Weird. That makes the end of the whole experiment feel that much closer. And it makes me think that A.P.R.P. is a pretty lackluster title to end with (maybe I should have given it a smarmy subtitle like BEING THE ADVENTURES OF A SOCIETY ON THE BRINK OF SOCIAL AND ENVIRONMENTAL DEVASTATION AND THE ONE MAN BRAVE ENOUGH TO SHEPHERD IN A NEW WAY--ALBEIT A MORALLY QUESTIONABLE WAY--OF MOVING FORWARD WITHOUT THE BAGGAGE FROM THE PAST DRAGGING THEM DOWN).

At any rate, keep those titles coming! I'm up to ten now and am looking forward to the very different challenge of writing to a title, rather than coming up with one afterwards. Not sure how they'll turn out, but I'm intrigued by the possibilities.

STORY # 333 (83 words)

2009-11-29T20:34:00.000-08:00

21st CENTURY VICTORY GARDEN

As it was unusually warm for the end of November, they pulled old familiar tools from wall hooks and with gloved hands tended to the yard.
Weeds slid easily from their warm earthen moorings while worms wriggled and rolled between roots.
At last the sun pitched toward the horizon; the day was done.
That night, over tea, they ruminated on a day well spent and imagined a future when they might buck the system and feed their family from the earth around their home.

STORY # 332 (48 words)

2009-11-28T18:14:00.000-08:00

A PIRATE’S LIFE

“At last,” Longbeard gasped as he laid eyes on the treasure.
Then he stepped closer, felt the terra firma beneath his feet shift slightly, and smiled.
“Booby trap,” he whispered knowingly, side-stepping to the left.
That’s when the real trap—of the nastiest variety—took ole Longbeard away.

STORY # 331 (23 words)

2009-11-27T16:10:00.000-08:00

THE BIRDING WORLD

The most surprising thing to Charles wasn’t the sheer number of birds out there but rather the fact that they were watching him.

STORY # 330 (88 words)

2009-11-26T15:20:00.000-08:00

POISON CONTROL

Cousin Billy first noticed it.
He was transfixed with something in the palm of his hand.
“Look how these little sugar balls melted.”
Aunt Sue looked over his shoulder as he rolled a silvery fluid toward his thumb and back again.
“I didn’t use sugar balls.”
Soon the whole family was involved.
“What is that?”
“Looks like a cartoon.”
“Where’s the turkey thermometer?”
After the phone call, as everyone lined up to heave Grandma’s delicious dinner into the single bathroom’s toilet, they saved their thanks for another time.

GIVING THANKS

2009-11-26T15:14:00.001-08:00

Thanks first to everyone who has read any (or all) of this blog over the past eleven months. You've kept me honest and working diligently.

Second, thanks to Davey Holmes, who told me this story so many years ago. (I know I don't have the names or players correct, so I made them up; and I'm sure I've misremembered some element or other; I do , however, remember the idea of having to vomit up an otherwise terrific holiday meal because of the potentiality of mercury poisoning.) Makes for a great story.

Thanks to the dice gods for giving me a most-excellent 88 (I hadn't planned on ripping off Davey's story until I was faced with such length).

And, finally, thanks to my friends and family, because they're pretty much all I have. I love you all.

STORY # 329 (23 words)

2009-11-25T08:52:00.001-08:00

TREETOPS

It would be the last dare Lyle ever accepted.
Kaitlin, the darer, went from smiles to screams within seconds as the rope unwound.

STORY # 328 (58 words)

2009-11-24T19:28:00.000-08:00

MIND OVER MATTER

It was one of the worst headaches she’d had in years.
Even opening her eyes brought misery.
Her aversion to medication meant she was in for the night and the next day.
She tried yoga, tea, Sleepless in Seattle.
Nothing worked.
By the time she broke down and bought half the pain relief aisle, the thing was gone.

THE NAME GAME

2009-11-24T19:21:00.000-08:00

The headache currently plaguing me is not nearly as bad as the one described in today's story, but it is annoying enough to keep me from coming up with anything better. Apologies for not being able to "Zen" my way through it and realize a better resolution.

Of the upcoming title challenge: I have received my first seven titles already (basically I've created a list that will grow as more come in, and to keep the spirit of the challenge, well... challenging, I'm just adding them on as they come in; thus December 1st through 7th are already decided and in order). It's a little weird (and certainly inspiring) to look at the list right now and know that on that day I'll be coming up with a story for an already established title. Those of you who've sent several ideas--I've only taken one (for now); we'll see how many more come in and take it from there.

Keep 'em coming!

STORY # 327 (44 words)

2009-11-23T18:34:00.000-08:00

A DOG’S LIFE

When Victor was a boy he wanted so badly to be like his dog that he copied Barky’s every move.
He found an obvious home when the traveling freak show gobbled him into their ranks due to his ability to lick his own asshole.

CHALLENGE ME!

2009-11-23T18:18:00.000-08:00

A very dear friend (and a daily reader) wrote me an email today offering the following thought: You have solved the FF dice well over 300 times now. It's time to take it up a notch in December with reader provided story titles.

I concur.

The same friend, in the same email, provided me with his first title challenge, which will in fact become the title for my story on December 1st (so you'll have to come back to find out what he gave me). I will of course continue to roll the bones every day to determine story length, but now I have the added challenge of working from and toward a specific title (provided by readers like you). As long as folks continue to offer title ideas*, I will continue to use them throughout the month. So please do! I love a challenge and this one's a doozy. What a way to end the year, right?

* If multiple titles come in on a certain day, I'll either choose the one I like the best (or least if I'm feeling randy), or save the unused titles for future stories. Additionally, I will give title credit each day following the story entry. A special thanks goes out to Dylan Oliver for the title challenge idea.

STORY # 326 (83 words)

2009-11-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

NEW FRONTIER

Donny wondered, What does one do when everyone around you has either died or succumbed to hermeticism?
Meet the world, he decided.
For the next several years he befriended as many people as possible.
His Facebook list spiraled into the thousands.
He made phone calls, wrote emails, texted left and right.
Finally, something inside kept tugging.
Within a week, he’d swan-songed every mode of communication, boiled the excess from his life down to a single backpack.
Eventually they all stopped wondering about him.

STORY # 325 (18 words)

2009-11-21T20:21:00.000-08:00

THE BREAK-UP

Inexplicably, he did it with a single word: “Disengage.”
Then he walked out, disappearing from her life forever.

STORY # 324 (45 words)

2009-11-20T16:42:00.000-08:00

TOO FAR

Once the house decided it wanted the family to leave, it didn’t hold back.
Cold chills, locked doors, mysterious sounds.
But the family resisted, so the house stepped up its game.
Bleeding walls…
Gateway to Hell…
Then, out of pure desperation, it blew itself up.

STORY # 323 (81 words)

2009-11-19T12:48:00.000-08:00

WRIGGLE ROOM

When the snakes got out the shit really hit the fan.
Miles was sure he had them caged properly, but somehow…
Rufus got bit on the nose and the paw.
The neighbor’s cat disappeared.
And Sally threatened to leave Miles if he didn’t take care of the situation.
Days later, seven snakes were wrangled, three still loose.
While Miles was at work, Sally placed two posts on Craigslist.
Within hours, the three were captured and then all ten found new homes.

STORY # 322 (47 words)

2009-11-18T11:38:00.000-08:00

AT REST

One day the ghost realized the house he’d been tormenting had long since been deserted.
He ceased rattling and knocking, unscrewed his face, floated gently to the ground.
“Home,” he intoned. Then, again: “Hoooooome.”
He smiled at the sound of his own lonely voice in the halls.

STORY # 321 (63 words)

2009-11-17T12:01:00.000-08:00

THE SLIP

Savings.
Preparations.
Flight.
Arrival.
Taxi.
Hotel.
Nap.
Dinner.
Streets.
Pickpocket.
Chase!
Disappearance.
Police.
Report.
Coffee.
Discussion.
Sleep.
Morning.
Frittata.
Newspaper.
Phone.
Conversation.
Recovery.
Body.
“Body?”
“Body.”
Taxi.
Morgue.
Wallet.
Questions.
Questions.
Questions.
Release.
Café.
Museum.
Discovery:
Man.
Hat.
Sunglasses.
Gallery.
Man.
Bookstore.
Man.
Hotel.
Man.
Confrontation.
Explanation:
"Identity?"
Mistaken.
Understanding.
Handshake.
Separation.
Seconds.
Minutes.
Hours.
Restaurant.
Crêpes.
Wine.
Brûlée.
Waiter.
Check.
Wallet?
Bastard!

STORY # 320 (48 words)

2009-11-16T13:49:00.000-08:00

SAFETY IN DISTANCE

He was always saying things like, “To each his own.”
But secretly he judged them all, put them in little categories.
So far he occupied his number one slot alone.
He doubted anyone would ever join him.
Until he met Millie and the whole thing came crashing down.

STORY # 319 (51 words)

2009-11-15T17:02:00.000-08:00

IDAHO BACKSTAIRS

Low clouds.
Deer.
The hectic sound of hardcore from a deserted house.
Emptiness for miles.
Lance finishes shaving his head.
Eats days-old pizza.
Plays the part while Trent and Killer plan another attack.
After tonight two more will go away.
If Lance doesn’t fuck it up.
He holds his breath.
Waits.

STORY # 318 (84 words)

2009-11-14T22:41:00.001-08:00

LEGACY

Baking always brought his mother solace and as he was an ever-willing assistant it made sense that when Hank turned eighteen he walked from one kitchen to another.
His instructors were impressed that even with little formal education he had such a natural touch with croissants, scones and the like.
Hank’s first and only bakery, Mother’s Son, satisfied appetites for fifty-three years and the abruptly closed its doors.
So much time baking meant he never bothered to start a family to carry it on.

STORY # 317 (23 words)

2009-11-13T22:29:00.000-08:00

SKIPPED

Jimmy spent so much time wishing he could grow up that by the time he did he pined desperately for his missed youth.

STORY # 316 (58 words)

2009-11-12T09:00:00.000-08:00

IN

The lights went out with a fizzle and a pop.
“That seems bad.”
“Um… yeah.”
They lit candles, made sandwiches, told stories.
When they fell asleep the power was still out.
Morning sun, diffused through the curtains, woke them.
The alarm clock’s blinking face lied, 2:17 AM.
He pulled her body close.
“What should we do today?”
“This.”

STORY # 315 (75 words)

2009-11-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT HAVE A DRESS CODE

The day Xavier started wearing suits to school everyone took immediate notice.
His teachers agreed he looked more grown-up, while his fellow students found new reason to jest at another’s expense.
In time, everyone followed suit: boys perfected the art of the full Windsor; girls found tranquility in their dresses.
One day, Xavier came to school in ripped jeans and an old t-shirt.
For a week or so, no one knew quite what to do.

STORY # 314 (36 words)

2009-11-10T12:12:00.000-08:00

THE FALLEN

“This is it.”
“End of the line.”
They inched closer to the cliff’s edge.
Ignored looking down.
Inhaled deeply.
And jumped.
Thankfully, their chutes opened flawlessly and when feet hit earth it was a welcome meeting.

STORY # 313 (21 words)

2009-11-09T11:25:00.000-08:00

ADVANCED TUTORIAL

When their backpacking trip went awry, Lyle and Persimmon survived on bark and ants for nearly four days.
“Next time… GPS.”

STORY # 312 (75 words)

2009-11-08T22:57:00.000-08:00

SHOOT

My grandfather, the famous gun maker, died before I was born.
But he cast such a spectacular shadow that my father, all four of my brothers, and I spent our lives trying to outrun it.
Billy shot himself; Donald and Frank found solace in drink; Charles III ran off with a girl from Chicago and was never seen again.
Dad passed the gun business to me, and I lost it in a shady poker den.

STORY # 311 (27 words)

2009-11-07T20:18:00.001-08:00

ACHILLES HEEL

Her addiction to Antiques Roadshow only got in the way twice.
Once, she lost her job.
And the other turned a would-be suitor into an awkward liability.

STORY # 310 (31 words)

2009-11-06T17:35:00.001-08:00

EVOLUTION

Three years now I’ve been squatting in rich people’s vacation homes.
The idea of caviar used to make me sick to my stomach.
Now I can’t go a day without it.

THE COOL

2009-11-06T17:33:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile one of those cool little numbers "things" happens. Like today, I rolled a 31 on day number 310. That's all. Just kind of cool, no? Hope you're all well. And thanks so much for reading.

STORY # 309 (86 words)

2009-11-05T21:35:00.001-08:00

VAPOR TRAIL

“I came here to talk,” he said, and he thought he meant it.
But sitting there, on the edge of her meticulously made bed, he realized the enormity of what had come between them and he clammed up.
She wished he would say something, anything, but the longer he sat there staring at his feet, she knew what it foretold.
When at last they silently agreed the end was already upon them and he left, the one lonely cloud in the sky shifted, broke apart, vanished.

STORY # 308 (17 words)

2009-11-04T10:41:00.001-08:00

LITTLE LANCE, CRUSHED

Uncle Ted said, “Wish in one hand, shit in the other—see which one fills up faster.”

STORY # 307 (26 words)

2009-11-03T09:59:00.000-08:00

IN TOLERANCE

In his dreams he went to prom with Jake, the hottie in Algebra II.
But in reality he succumbed to social persuasion and asked a girl.

STORY # 306 (25 words)

2009-11-02T18:44:00.000-08:00

THE PUBLIC EYE

Finding the unicorn was the best and worst thing I’ve ever done.
It brought me magic, but no spell can keep the world from staring.

STORY # 305 (56 words)

2009-11-01T17:54:00.000-08:00

EL DIA DE LOS MUERTOS (or ONE FOR THE ROAD)

It lasted exactly ten years.
After the haunted house debacle, they felt they owed him something.
But pity quickly turned to friendship as they realized genuine feelings for the old man.
They fished, drank, argued, hugged.
Then, by way of stroke (not heart attack), he died.
Instead of flowers they place candied skulls on his grave.

STORY # 304 (66 words)

2009-10-31T21:28:00.001-07:00

GRAVITY

When they built it, neither of them thought it would be scary enough to give someone a heart attack.
But here they were, shut down by nine o’clock, sitting in the emergency room.
Waiting.
“Feels weird, being here. We don’t even know him.”
“True, but… it was our haunted house.”
They were still there three days later when he was released and no family showed up.

STORY # 303 (14 words)

2009-10-30T11:36:00.000-07:00

THE NOT-SO-GREAT PUMPKIN

Destined not for mythical enormity, nor delight in children’s eyes, but mediocre pie filling.

STORY # 302 (54 words)

2009-10-29T08:33:00.001-07:00

GENERATIONS

The town meeting was called on Halloween.
“Why tonight?”
While the parents sat in the auditorium, the children were at home trying on costumes.
At the meeting: “A curfew?”
“Why?”
“For how long?”
“Just tonight.”
The debate raged for hours.
By the time it ended, the kids were already back home, candy-bellied and dreaming.

STORY # 301 (58 words)

2009-10-28T20:34:00.000-07:00

EXTENDED FAMILY

After his parents died, Zeke went to live with his uncle Ted, the writer.
An expert on holidays, he’d recently published a book on the history of Halloween.
Despite his newfound loneliness, Zeke felt at home relatively quickly.
Mornings, they cooked omelets, potatoes and toast.
At night, they talked about sorrow and love and cried and laughed together.

STORY # 300 (61 words)

2009-10-27T18:18:00.000-07:00

A GRAVEYARD SMASH

Reputation be damned, Mikey cranked “Monster Mash” to skull-numbing decibels and danced, sans irony, as everyone in the room gawked at his moves, slack-jawed.
His finale included some decidedly Travolta-esque maneuvers, despite the lack of disco in the tune.
On the way to the hospital, he insisted it wasn’t the first time he’d attempted the splits.
The paramedics thought otherwise.

LONG TIME

2009-10-27T18:09:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, I would have rather delivered with a thunderously brilliant (or even "really good") story today, considering the milestone. Alas, I'm directing another play and it opens in two weeks; thus, my time to work on these tiny tales has been truncated, to say the least. Apologies aside, happy 300! Thanks for reading them thus far -- it truly means the world to me. Only a few more days and these October related stories will (finally) be a thing of the past. Then, it's a mere two months to go! I can't believe how fast it's all gone by so far, and I look forward to going back to January 1 and re-reading them all.

STORY # 299 (26 words)

2009-10-26T09:58:00.001-07:00

NEW GIRL

Watching Halloween on Halloween seals it: best first date ever.
But then she shows up at your ex-girlfriend’s house with a knife and things get complicated.

STORY # 298 (31 words)

2009-10-25T18:18:00.000-07:00

NONPLUSSED

Landon didn’t realize he was the werewolf at first.
The transformations (and subsequent feeding frenzies) were consistently erased from memory.
When the last of his neighbors disappeared, he put it together.

STORY # 297 (35 words)

2009-10-24T13:35:00.000-07:00

THE VIRGIN

Annie was sick to her stomach with anticipation.
Her dreams were haunted by myriad horrific outcomes.
Finally, the moment arrived: her first time.
She reached out, fingered the button, waited.
The door creaked open.
“Trick-or-treat!”

STORY # 296 (56 words)

2009-10-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

BUSTED

By eight, they’d smoked three bowls and enjoyed back-to-back Simpsons re-runs (Treehouse of Horror, naturally).
Kendall was still giggling minutes after the end credits.
Paul licked his Ben and Jerry’s pint so clean it was almost sterile.
The sudden doorbell promised pizza.
The desire for pepperoni was trumped by the surprise of Kendall’s grandparents walking in.

STORY # 295 (15 words)

2009-10-22T11:18:00.000-07:00

UNRAVELED

When the mummy finally realized he’d snagged himself on the sarcophagus, it was too late.

STORY # 294 (67 words)

2009-10-21T11:06:00.000-07:00

GOOD HUMOR

The vacation was off to a rocky start.
Van decided to spread a sour mood over his usual jollity and Darla was sick of trying to crack his façade.
By the time they reached the B & B in Vermont, Darla was ready to turn around.
The paper ghost taped to the window in their bedroom got them laughing.
They didn’t stop until after they arrived home.