I just left the virtual world, Second Life. I’d been to a literary Happy Hour, hosted by Relish Resident and dedicated to microfiction.
Microfiction is so Niche that even Wikipedia doesn’t have a separate entry for it—it’s in with Flash Fiction…
I’ve written many times about my experiences in Second Life and tonight’s event was superb.
I’m going to reproduce four of Relish’s microfiction pieces below but first want to give you a reference to some considerations when approaching execution of this genre. As with all opinions about literature, and especially concerning something as new as this, take the article, The Essentials of Micro-Fiction, with a grain of salt…
Read by Relish Resident, at the Writer’s Block Cafe on Book Island
(All copyright 2011 by Relish Resident)
The whole thing was blown out of proportion. A large woman had reached for the tic tacs and a slender man, with the waistline of a teenage girl, felt that she had interrupted his personal space.
Many words were exchanged, which led to pushing and shoving, and soon an all-out fist fight erupted. The slender man was tossed over the boxes of fruit loops (3 for 3.50) and the large woman took 4 gutshots and a knee to the face without so much as flinching. I was gambling, feeding crisp dollars into a poker machine, trying to receive an illegal payout, trying to pay my way through barber school, trying to make a difference in this world by cutting hair.
I was amazed to see the slender man suddenly working an effective jab and cashing in on the large woman’s late-round fatigue. That is when it hit me. I’d never be a success.
Horror Part 1
Blood dripped from its eyes, its head tilted to the left, its chin and cheeks seemed to melt in layers, its skin was painted white, its lips black, it was toothless with a long hairy tongue. It walked from room to room and we all curled into little balls of fear. It yelled, “I am real; you can’t comprehend me.” Everything we ever believed died that night.
They all ate chocolate deserts, average steak-ranch hoagies, pizza, and listened to a lengthy love poem that was read aloud. One person danced while a tall man sang, small electric fans were frequently being turned off and on. Their boss away, they all felt sleepy and useless. It was heaven.
“What in the hell are we supposed to do now?”
The two men hung from the ledge suspended 36 stories in the air. Many curious spectators gathered below.
“We’ll get a closer look at the nesting Falcons. We are going to die now you ass.” Firetrucks sirened in the distance. The sun blushed.
“You know what’s funny? I just wanted to spend time with you. I hate birds.” They looked at each other and dangled their legs.
One of the best parts of Relish’s weekly microfiction event is that we get to discuss the works after they’re read.
As the LitReactor site says: Micro Fiction is “…an art form of its own—a different medium for expression—as different from shorts stories as short stories are from novels.”
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