Flash Fiction: A piece of fiction that is extremely brief. The challenge is to write it in under one hundred words.
Here is my flash fiction piece from the prompt:
The ghost of Phineas Illingworth languished behind the steering wheel of his rusted model-t as it crept soundlessly down the street. In May of nineteen seventeen, he’d driven the prettiest girl in Oak Creek to the ball in it. She left with his rival. Frustrated, he ripped out his engine and left it for dead. A hundred years later, he still thought about her—the children they might have had.
Her great-great-granddaughter, with pigtails flying, and tennis shoes thumping, darted across the road. Phineas didn’t even brake.
She turned to wave at her mother. He hated being a ghost.
How would you have written the prompt?
This guy still makes me the happiest woman on Earth. He’s my biggest fan. I love it when he comes home and says, “What did you get written today.” Then after I’ve read to him, he says, “That’s it?”
He gives me great feedback on my stories. Since he’s an avid reader, I trust his judgement on what makes a good story.
It’s been 40 years since we started on our crazy journey together, raising eight children and loving the heck out of eighteen grandchildren. Life has been an adventure. We’ve had our ups and downs. Through it all this man has stood by my side and I’m sure has often thought, “What is this crazy woman up to now?”
With retirement around the corner for him, he’ll get to spend more of his time asking, “Is that all you’ve written today? Get to work, woman. Oh and I’ll make my own sandwich, you want one, too?” He’s pretty handy to have around.