Another flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig. As some might recall, one of his previous challenges resulted in a short story I’m shopping around (already got one rejection, so I’m stoked).
This time, the challenge is for a piece of Flash Fiction no more than 100 words in length.
I want you to write a story in five sentences. No more than 100 words.
You can view it, if you’d like, as:
Sentence 1: Beginning / Inciting Incident
Sentence 2: Middle
Sentence 3: Middle peak, act turn or pivot
Sentence 4: Climactic turn or twist
Sentence 5: Resolution
That is not a strict map, but rather, a reminder that a story is a story, not a snapshot: it has a beginning, a middle and an end.
That is something that can be difficult in a flash fiction piece, having all components of a story.
I don’t know if I succeeded, but . . .
Copyright 2016 – E. J. D’Alise
I looked all over. I checked the car, even under the sofa cushions. My favorite pen was gone.
I stood there, looking around. The glass Jeb had used sat there, by the notepad.
Grabbing the baseball bat sitting by the door, I ran out. Jeb turned the corner up ahead.
Running, I followed him. There he was, squatting in front of a homeless man. His hand extended, he offered my pen to the man.
I stopped. The man’s face beamed and started drawing on a well-worn notebook. I turned and left. The pen was better off where it was.
Excluding the title, copyright, and ‘The End’, that is 99 words. Let me know if I managed to present a story per the requirements. Regardless, not bad for fifteen minutes worth, even if I’m the only one saying it.
Cruisers Update IX:
Continuing with my late reporting on the June 14, 2015, Tri-Lakes Vintage Car show.
First up, a 1933 Dodge DP Convertible Coupe.
By the way, there is a SmugMug Gallery (HERE) for this, past, and future posts about this show. Also, you can click on the photos to open a larger version in a separate tab or window. Go ahead; try it.
I’m going to quickly go through the cars because I’m tired, lots of stuff is occupying my mind, and my eyes are still bothering me from having been dilated this afternoon (they check out; no cataract, no glaucoma, still brown).
Next up a 1967 Chevrolet Corvette Roadster.
A neat, but probably not the original paint job.
And here’s a 1972 Chevrolet Chevelle. Like many other cars, painted red.
At a casual glance, this next car looked like a Jaguar E-Type . . .
I assume car connoisseurs will recognize it instead as a 1970 Marcos 3000GT.
Next up, a 1932 Ford 3-Window and a 1932 Ford Pick-Up.
Wow . . . 1932 engines were more advanced than I imagined . . . as were the tires.
Next up, a car beloved by people professing to be in love with feeling as if their asses dragged just a few inches above the pavement . . . which they are if driving this 1970 MG MGB. Very clever naming, that.
Honest, I never got the fascination with pseudo-toy cars. Heck, at my age I don’t think I could crank the pedals fast enough.
I had to be careful as I walked around both the MG and this next car, the Austin Healey 3000 MkII lest the drool from mostly older drooling spectators ruined my shoes.
Me? I would prefer driving the 1956 Ford Fairlane Sunliner . . . even though it is a Ford.
Heck, I’d even prefer either of these next two beauties.
A 1933 McCormick Farmall H Tractor (International Harvester) and a 1938 Chevy Firetruck.
And now, we come to my favorite vehicle of the whole show . . . a 1962 Chevrolet Corvair Greenbrier Sportwagon.
I had never seen or even heard of this vehicle before that day, but I could see the utility of it . . . can you imagine how many snacks we could take on our drives?
I did not catch the name of this next car . . . my bad. I would say it’s either a Ford or a Chevrolet.
This next one I could work out . . . a 1963 Ford Falcon.
And it sat next to a 1958 Chevrolet Corvette.
OK, we’re nearing the end . . .
Here is a 1970 Plymouth Road Runner . . .
And a 1971 Ford Turbo Cobra . . .
This post concludes the photos of individual cars, but are we done? Noooo!
Next up, all the macro shots. We have emblems, logos, lights, handles, engines . . . you name it, and it’s coming up.
Until next time . . .
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.