Have you ever heard of Flash Fiction? Neither had I. But apparently it’s a thing. The definition is:
fiction that is extremely brief, typically only a few hundred words or fewer in its entirety.
Oh how I wish I could go back to my teachers/college professors and show them I was right all along! I had endless arguments with them using the reasoning ‘you use only as many words as necessary to convey the story.’
They were always trying to get me to S-T-R-E-T-C-H my stories. ‘Flesh them out’. Make them fit into some sort of conventional formula dictated by the ‘powers that be’.
I thought they were just right as they were. Of course, we see how well THAT worked out for my writing career…snort.
But I continue to jot down my little missives, if only for my own amusement.
I thought I’d share one with you……
The letter came in the mail. It was addressed to HER. It always saddened him to see that. But it was becoming less frequent as time went on.
He debated with himself whether or not to open it. It was obviously a personal letter. Hand written.
He laid it on the table just inside the front door, not where he usually placed the mail.
For days he walked past the letter contemplating what to do about it.
He finally broke down and opened it.
It was from HIM.
He had known about her infidelity since it had happened. They never spoke of it.
As he read, waves of emotion washed over him. It was a touching letter, and yet full of selfishness.
Although the anger and pain of betrayal had long ago left him he wasn’t sure if he should reply.
The time for recrimination was past.
He told his therapist about the letter. The therapist said he was angry his wife had left him. He insisted he wasn’t. Denial the therapist called it. After some time he grew tired of the argument and let it go.
He sat down with pen and paper and started to write, “I’m sorry to say your letter arrived too late, she passed away seven months ago….”