Writing 365 -Flash Fiction
Hemmingway once wrote the “shortest novel ever.” It goes “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” This is the most extreme piece of flash fiction I’ve ever seen, but I love the brevity of this type of story, so I wanted to challenge myself today and write an ultra short story – in 100 words.
The topic: An astrologer waltzes with the sun inside a marble city. I got this one off of Twitter, courtesy of Magical Realism Bot.
Predawn light is the only illumination in the shivery chamber. The King, his astrologer, and twenty of his closest advisors listen as the screams of the Queen echo through the castle, waiting for the first wails of an heir. The newborn howls just as the sun flashes into the room, dancing off each vein in the marble. The astrologer exults, waltzing with the effervescent sun. This child will usher in the age of plenty and, though the old man knows he will not see this dream unfold, he is ebullient. His spirit capers with the sun one last time before a cloud snuffs the light.
Okay, this is 105 words. Pretty close though, right? I hope you enjoyed this piece of flash fiction. See you tomorrow!
© 2016-2017 JULIA SHAW, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PS: The photo used was found on Flickr at the profile of Photo courtesy of Aurelien Villette. This photo is not owned by me and should only be attributed to Mr. Villette, who does amazing work.