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Tag: flash fiction

  • Original Short Fiction:  “Graveyard Whistler’s Fourth Flash Fiction Find” (4) 

    Image: “Whistling past the graveyard” – High Frontier 

    Original Short Fiction:  “Graveyard Whistler’s Fourth Flash Fiction Find” (4) 

    The Graveyard Whistler has become quite enthusiastic about “flash fiction,” offering his fourth installment of the little stories.  Stay tuned for a brief bio of “Belmonte Segwic” (aka “The Graveyard Whistler”) coming soon! 

    Fiction Alert!
    This story is fiction.
    It does not depict any real person or actual event.

    Introduction by the Graveyard Whistler 

    Graveyard Whistler at it, again! I continue to find pieces of literature that just blow my mind, so I feel compelled  to share them.  Thus, I am continuing with this series of little narrations that have come to be known as “flash fiction.”  

    There are several online sites that offer this genre of literature, but most have upward of a 500 words or more.  These little gems that I found seldom break 50, including the title!  They exemplify an amazing feat and thus continue to fascinate me!  I think I am in love! 

    And now I am considering a new label for this very, very short narrative.  “Flash fiction” does not seem to fit.  I’ll get back to you on that.  Maybe I could run a contest to get help me rename this genre.  Maybe!  Maybe!  Maybe! 

    A Bit of Background 

    The following set of five that I offer here are reconstituted narratives based on a set I found on a site that no longer exists, “Stone Gulch Literary Arts,” also known as “Stone Gulch Literary Home,” whose owner has given me permission to use the literary offerings he had place on the site.  He lost his interest in literature and will likely become an attorney once he finishes law school and passes the bar exam. 

    Interestingly, “Stoney,” my nickname for him because he refuses to reveal his identity, sports a PhD in American Literature and serves as a full professor in the English department at a midwestern state university. He has given me permission to anything I want with his abandoned works.  

    And I might add, for my purposes, that lit site offers a treasure chest of goodies—from the flash fiction to highly sensual poems to short stories full of dark and dreary twists and turns to airy mystical stuff.  It even delves into some political treatises analysis that is quite fascinating even insightful. 

    Five Flash Fiction Pieces 

    So, I am continuing to share the flash fiction pieces. Here are the new five. Each story contains only five sentences. But each boasts an opening, a conflict, and a conclusion—a feat which I am finding fascinating! 

    Getting Forgetful 

    The unsigned  card arrived two days after Edna’s birthday.  The card was beautiful and very personal.  But it gave no clue as to who had posted it. Edna asked relatives and friends about the card.  Six weeks later, Edna’s mother remembered sending the card. 

    A Country Picnic

    I’ll bring the tea, and Sue can bring the cake. Where should we have our picnic this year? Same as last year, at Eddie’s Country Hide-a-Way. But Eddie sold that home. Yeah, I know; I bought it but kept the name! 

    Poems with Chunks of Ice

    Winton wanted so much to become a famous poet.  At college she became friends with Ashton and Flannory. Flannory became jealous that Ashton liked Winton’s poems. Winton had no interest in Ashton, Flannory, or their poems.  After graduation, Flannory left Ashton for a novelist. 

    Raising the Pane

    Lucette did not understand English well. She hired Johann to help her with her English lessons. Johann asked Lucette for a raise to keep tutoring her. Lucette put up the window. Johann jumped out and never returned. 

    Of Course, You Don’t Know Me

    Candy brought six pies to the reunion banquet at Chicago Town High School. Jackson brought his fiddle and played it for the dancing. Astrid danced and ate pie and conversed with everyone.  Martha finally admitted she did not know Astrid. Astrid finally admitted she had crashed the reunion and had actually graduated from a school in Toledo. 

    A Final Statement from the Graveyard Whistler 

    This installment features five of these flash fiction pieces. I’ll continue to add more later. But I’ll probably explore into other genres before I continue with these. 

    I am procrastinating hugely in writing my dissertation because at this point I am not finding as much information as I had anticipated on the topic of irony.  I am considering changing my focus to a simple ideas of “variety” in the literary world because I am finding that literature, both ancient and modern contemporary, does offer such a wide array of different topics, genres, issues, attitudes, and styles. I could likely revamp a whole new glossary of literary devices if I put my mind to it, and I might just have to do that! 

    My advisor is somewhat dismayed at my dilly-dallying but hey, it’s my life—not hers! 

    Later, Gator!

    Literarily yours,
    Belmonte Segwic
    aka Graveyard Whistler

    🕉

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  • Graveyard Whistler’s Career Update and Third Flash Fiction Find (3)

    Image: “Whistling past the graveyard – High Frontier

    Fiction Alert!
    This story is fiction.
    It does not depict any real person or actual event.

    Graveyard Whistler’s Career Update and Third Flash Fiction Find

    Graveyard Whistler  has an updated report on his career path and his threat to become a lawyer.  Plus he offers a political rant with a rebuttal, which was suggested to him by one of his readers.

    Graveyard Whistler Here!  Bet You Thought I Forgot about Y’all!

    I finally did it.  Took the plunge, and decided to take a job with a law firm.  I know I’ve been quiet about my pursuit of legal studies, but that’s simply because I do love literary studies so much, and it does take a lot of my time.  

    But even as I pursued the PhD in lit, I was simultaneously working toward my JD, which I got, and then took a job at Spirit, Mission, and Frees Legal Firm, leaving the university position I originally started.  I have not looked back; university teaching is for the birds, not for serious scholars.

    Funny, I have been asked to join the University of South Field as an adjunct to teach a lit crit class at night; it would run 6:30 to 10 p.m.  So far I have resisted the offer, but I am considering it.  

    My day job is fantastic; it doesn’t require a lot of homework, but still I do like to guard my time to keep for my own literary studies—am currently working on a book of sonnets.  Yeah, I know.  I didn’t use to consider myself a creative writer, but that has slowly changed, and I’ve taken up writing both fiction and poetry.  Oh, well!

    The thing is I spend my daytime doing legal briefs and simple legal tasks, like wills and contracts—stuff that doesn’t take a lot of time, and never interferes with my off time—no weekends, no evenings—what they used to call bankers hours 9 a.m. to 3 p. m..  And so you know how I spend my off time.  So let’s get to it!

    Here are five additional very short pieces of “flash fiction.”

    The following set of five flash fiction stories originally appeared on a now defunct literary site titled, “Stone Gulch Literary Arts.”  The owner of the site fell out of love with literature, even as he remained a full professor of American literature at a mid-west American university.  He indicated that he might even go back to school to finish his law degree.  He hasn’t published widely in the field but just enough to make it to the top of his professoriate.

    I continue to adore the study of literature and cannot ever foresee giving it up, certainly never for the study of law. I do find law itself interesting but practicing as an attorney would never interest me.  Look at Edgar Lee Masters, Esq., a bitter little man whose bitterness wrecked his marriages, left him in a blue funk.  And his literary output?  

    The sum of his reputation rests on his Spoon River Anthology that is made of other bitter, disgruntled little people.  Oh, sure!  Masters is regarded as a success, but is he really? He got no joy of out life, and he became so addicted to writing his putrid little “epitaphs” that he couldn’t stop, even after seeing that additional iterations of those little nasty character pieces had lost their pizzazz with the reading public.

    Five Flash Fiction Stories

    Okay, now down off my soapbox, I give you five more “flash” fiction pieces gleaned and refurbished from “Stone Gulch Literary Arts.” Each little story is told in only five sentences, while still presenting an opening, a conflict, and a conclusion.  

    Oh, Yeah, Here’s My Point!

    Katherine became passionate about Marcus, a member of her poetry workshop. They started meeting several times a week to engage in their lascivious passions. Katherine put psychologist major Marcus in mind of his own mother. Marcus made the mistake of telling Katherine that she wanted to screw her own son, as he also wanted to bed his own mother. Katherine shrieked at Marcus, “you bastard!” as she stabbed him in the neck with her ball point.

    A Sinking Feeling

    The water looked so refreshing to  Jamaal, so he jumped in for a short swim.  Sheena was strolling by the lake waters carrying her baby son.  Jamaal noticed Sheena and waved to her to come swim with him.  Sheena plopped her infant son down on some rocks, jumped in, hoping to get lucky with Jamaal.  Problem was, Sheena forgot that she could not swim, so Jamaal was left to raise Sheena’s newborn son.

    The Legend of Bessie and Marva

    Bessie and Marva start meeting at the Gauntlet Hotel for late night trysts.  Bessie tries to break off the affair and begins telling Marva she is not really gay, maybe bisexual, but not a true lesbian.  Marva would just blow off Bessie’s claim of non-gayhood.  Bessie becomes flustered trying to find a way to make Marva let her go. But then Marva suffers a fatal shooting at a gay pride rally, and Bessie is sad but relieved.

    The Vandalizing Sleeper

    A big “stop” sign by Bernie’s home was being vandalized regularly.  Bernie made up his mind to catch the vandals in the act.  Bernies then installs a camera to catch the offending culprits.  After a couple of weeks, Bernie goes to fetch the camera to see who’d been messing with that important stop sign.  Bernie is shocked and dismayed the find out that he had been vandalizing the sign—he had started sleepwalking again!

    Selma to Selma

    Buster was a stock clerk in Bibi’s dad’s grocery store in Selma, Alabama. Bibi had eyes for Buster, big time!  Buster had the hots for Bibi!  Bibi’s dad held “Bozo Buster,” as he called him, in very low regard and canned him to keep him away from his daughter.  Bibi and Buster, however, ended up tying the knot and relocating to Selma, Indiana.

    Final Word from the Graveyard Whistler

    There are only a few more little short fiction pieces left on the Stone Gulch site.  I’ll be presenting them as I finish refurbishing them.  The site does have a lot of other stuff which I can’t wait to curate.  I’m ever so grateful to the owner of that site that he so generously allows me to use the stuff.  

    It’s all original; I check it religiously with plagiarism checkers and all, and it always comes up clean.  I would love to do an interview with that site owner, to see what makes him tick besides growing impatient with literary studies.  It would certainly fascinating to find out how his law career is going.  Of course, all this depends on how forthcoming he wishes to be.  I would not want to make him reveal more than he is comfortable with.

    Final Word from the Graveyard Whistler

    There are only a few more little short fiction pieces left on the Stone Gulch site.  I’ll be presenting them as I finish refurbishing them.  The site does have a lot of other stuff which I can’t wait to curate.  I’m ever so grateful to the owner of that site that he so generously allows me to use the stuff.  

    It’s all original; I check it religiously with plagiarism checkers and all, and it always comes up clean.  I would love to do an interview with that site owner, to see what makes him tick besides growing impatient with literary studies.  It would certainly be fascinating to find out how his law career is going.  Of course, all this depends on how forthcoming he wishes to be.  I would not want to make him reveal more than he is comfortable with.

    Until later .  . . 

    Literarily yours,
    Belmonte Segwic
    aka Graveyard Whistler

  • Graveyard Whistler’s First Flash Fiction Find (1)

    Image 1:  “Whistling past the graveyard” iPatriot

    The Graveyard Whistler’s literary journey now finds him delving into the phenomenon known as “flash fiction.”  He also reveals that he is in possession of a literary treasure trove bestowed upon him by a professor who curated a lit site, until he decided to leave academia and go into law.

    Fiction Alert!
    This story is fiction.
    It does not depict any real person or actual event.

    Introduction by the Graveyard Whistler

    Graveyard Whistler here again!  I keep finding stuff that just blows me away, and I just have to share it.  This time it’s a series of little narrations that have come to be known as “flash fiction.”  There are several online outfits dabbling in that endeavor.

    The following set of ten that I offer here are refurbished narratives based on a set I found on a site that no longer exists.  The site was called “Stone Gulch Literary Arts.”  I contacted the owner of that site, and he told me he had completely abandoned it along with literary studies in general, despite the fact that he sports a PhD in American Literature and serves as a full professor in the English department at a state university. 

    He preferred that I not identify him, and he has since taken down the site from the Web.  He said he was now studying law, and as soon as he passes the bar exam, he is waving good-bye to academia.

    But “Stoney,” my nickname for him because he refuses to reveal his identity, did give me permission to do what I want with anything found there.  And I might add, for my purposes, the site remains a treasure trove of goodies, from the flash fiction to highly sensual poems to short stories full of dark and dreary twists and turns to airy mystical stuff.  Stoney’s literary treasure trove even sports some political treatises and analyses that are quite fascinating as well as insightful.  

    So, I begin with the flash fiction pieces. 

    Ten Flash Fiction Pieces

    Here are the first 10.  Each story contains only five sentences. But each boasts an opening, a conflict, and a conclusion.  Seems that this would make a useful exercise for the creative writing class.

    Prison for the Battered

    A battered wife, home alone one morning, gives birth to a baby boy.  Afraid of the infant, she buries it in the back yard.  She didn’t even know she was pregnant! The neighbor’s dogs dig up the body of the infant.  The battered wife welcomed prison to escape the beatings from her spouse.    

    Lucy’s Tunes into Law

    Lucy loved music and wrote many songs.  She performed her songs on a number of CDs.  Lucy’s friend sent two of Beth’s CDs full of songs to a famous singer.  The singer ripped off the songs, and left Lucy demoralized.  Lucy never wrote another song but decided to go to law school to study copyright law.

    Candy’s Dream Job

    Candy was poor and couldn’t buy her dream dress on display in Gladys Harper’s Boutique window.   Candy tries to spirit the dress away under her winter coat.   Gladys’ sharp eye catches Candy’s attempted crime.   Gladys requires Candy to work in the boutique to earn money to buy the dress.   Years later, Gladys dies, bequeathing to Candy both the boutique and Candy’s dream job.

    A Big Heavy Rock

    Martin brings the big heavy rock to his room upstairs.  Delbert is walking past Martin’s house.  Martin then drops the big heavy rock on top of Delbert’s head. Martin panics and then calls an ambulance.  Seems unlikely but the two boys became fast friends as Delbert recovers in the clinic.

    The Green Marble

    Edna carried around her three pretty marbles.  She handed over a blue one to her friend, Martha.  Annette coveted Edna’s the green marble.  Edna let Betty have her green marble.  Annette hated Betty from than on.

    Old, Dead Guy Waiting

    An old guy named Winston Totenfelder was waiting by his mailbox. Unfortunately, the mail was running very late that day. Old man Winston Totenfelder started to worry about his friend, Jack Neuland, the mailman.  Jack in his mail truck had crashed into a big buck deer on his mail run. Old Winston Totenfelder gave up waiting, walked back to his house, and in his kitchen near the sink, fell dead.

    Pop! Pop! Capped! Capped!

    The house looked empty to Stoop and Dreggs.  Stoop ran to the back porch, while Dreggs stayed on the front porch.  Stoop shouted out to signal to Dreggs—time to break through the doors. Pop!  goes the lady of the house, capping Stoop. Dead instantly!  Pop! goes the other lady of the house capping Dreggs.  Also dead instantly!

    Purple Bicycles

    Twin boys, Jon and Don, sped on their purple bicycles over to Mortmaker’s Lake.  Jon told Mrs. Mortmaker about the heron he saw by the lake.  Don spoke to Mr.  Mortmaker about riding his bicycle around the lake.  Both Mr. and Mrs. Mortmaker utterly despised all children.  Those purple bikes were brought up out of the lake, after a ten year search for the twins.

    Glazna’s Final Swim

    We all carried our lunch pails down to Spork River at high noon.  Glazna boasted that she could swim fifteen miles upriver without one stop.  Amy replied she was very doubtful that Glazna could do that.  Glazna popped up off the rock she sat on, slung off her shoes, and dived into the muddy water of Spork River.  A report on the six o’clock news the next day claimed Glazna’s lifeless body was recovered from Spork River after a twelve hour search.

    Jimmy and the Hold Up

    Jimmy buys himself a nifty water pistol at Jaggly’s Dollar Emporium.  Jimmy’s mom tells him not to take the squirt gun to school.  Jimmy tucks away his new water weapon into his backpack and ventures off to class.  A teacher calls Jimmy’s mom at lunch time. Jimmy had attempted to hold up the secretaries in the main office brandishing his new water pistol.

    A Final Comment by the Graveyard Whistler

    This installment features only the first 10 of these flash fiction pieces.  I’ll add more later.  But I’ll probably delve into other genres before I continue with these.  I have put off writing my dissertation because at this point I am not finding as much information as I had anticipated on the topic of irony.  

    Maybe I will change my focus to a simple notion of “variety” in the literary world because I am finding that literature, both ancient and modern contemporary, does sport a wide array of different topics, genres, issues, attitudes, and styles.  I could like “coin” a whole new glossary of literary devices if I put my mind to it, and I might just have to do that!

    Literarily yours,
    Belmonte Segwic
    (aka Graveyard Whistler)