Sunday, September 23, 2012

Flash fiction - first attempt

I've never tried flash fiction before, but there was a NZ contest discussed here. This was all back in June, and I have to admit to being too slow/slack/lazy to actually produce the flash fiction in time for the contest

However, Tim Jones suggested a gathering to discuss flash fiction informally, so I went along and managed to finish a small piece that I'd started for the contest but never finished in time. My piece seemed reasonably well received and I was pretty happy that Janis Freegard, whose "Elephant" was a runner up at the contest said she liked mine enough to read it twice. Her "Elephant" is brilliant and I was happy she shared it around with the group.

Here's my first attempt at Flash fiction. The only rule - it has to be 300 words or less.

The Love of a Woman

In the words of a great man, my father and Lord of the Eastern Marches, the love of a woman is the greatest thing and after that, all other things are a distant concern.

While I have never doubted this before, I admit a hesitation at the moment. It is a great concern that she holds a knife to my throat, right here, in my bedroom as I have just awoken. I think she is here to kill me, but I can't help but love her.

She is wrapped in black silk, the traditional garb of the Ismali assassins. Only her eyes are visible and what eyes they are! They are obsidian, black pupils on black irises. And the fierceness! Oh... it is like a tiger watching its prey.

I don't know what I have done to deserve that look, but if I knew, I would do it again every day of the rest of my life.

I imagine our life together and meeting her family. I wonder which parent she got her eyes from. I hope it is her mother, for two angels are better than one. I KNOW I will get along with her parents. I will make every effort.

If a client pays extra, they can request the most blatant show of contempt and the assassin will remove their mask before striking the killing blow. It is a slow ritual, a removal of the mask as they hold the knife to your throat. I wait in anticipation, so hoping that the client has paid the maxium sum.

Yes, she begins to unwind the silk strip, slowly, with utmost precision and control, anticlockwise, so I always remain in sight. It comes away revealing what is sure to be a glorious face.

No... she's not really my type.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Time and Space
re: tribute to the preposition

Once in a while, I think I’m over the hill.
I rarely sit on the fence, but
You’re continually putting me under the hammer
and I’m regularly stuck between a rock and a hard place
so I’m often besides myself.
You almost always put me behind the eight ball
And sometimes hit below the belt.
Again and again, I’m along for the ride.
Over and over, you’ve sold me down the river
and I’m constantly swimming against the tide.
My respect for you is about to vanish into thin air
Remember, you’re never above the law
In no time, you’ll find yourself outside the circle of trust.
Your motives are frequently beyond my understanding
So now I ask, off the top of my head
That you immediately stop being a boy among men
Before I go out of my mind

The Zoo

A woman never knows how beautiful she is
The thought almost always foremost on her mind?
Losing the extra weight she doesn’t even have
It’s seriously on her mind, all the time
The trap is clever, a modern world snare
It catches her common sense, and puts it in a zoo
So she can visit every now and then
And see it from a distance
Through solid metal bars

In a similar grotty cage right next door
Sits her self esteem
Not far away is her integrity
Which sits next to her bravery
The will to make the world a better place
Is across the central path where visitors walk
The zookeeper loves to keep his animals well tended
But in their cages, always in their cages