This post is an example of microfiction. It can give you some inspiration for your own tiny stories once I launch the Finance Your Fire #microfiction writing challenge on my blog.
At the time of writing this post I haven’t launched the challenge just yet, but stay tuned. If I deem there is sufficient interest I’ll post the first word in May 2019. These posts will be tagged with ‘Microfiction’.
So here we go. Let’s assume the word is flood. This means I need to use the word flood (flooding and flooded would be okay as well) in the body of my story (having the word in the title, but not in the body is not good enough).
- I can use max 350 words
- Any genre would do
- The story needs to be in English (this is a bit of a drawback as my mother tongue is Dutch, but hey this is not a competition)
Below my #microfiction response (sci-fi).
He clicked the memory device into the tiny port behind his right ear. They had guaranteed him there would be no discomfort. He quickly realized they had only been talking about physical discomfort. As his brain was flooded with terabytes of information, a feeling of mental agony washed over him.
Then he remembered.
Amsterdam was even more glorious than in the postcards and wandering along its elaborate canal system with the narrow seventeenth- and eighteenth-century gabled merchant houses was like getting lost in a painting by a master of the Golden Age. It was astonishingly beautiful and romantic. Green, healthy trees lined the canals, shielding people from noise and providing a wonderful breezy shade from the hot summer sun. He remembered she had strolled under those trees for hours, carefree and with a smile on her face. Her good looks attracted the stares of many men. He knew she was used to that.
When she tripped, fell into the canal, the shock paralyzed her. She could not swim. He remembered her death-struggle, her refusal to inhale despite the agony of running out of air. How no-one came to the rescue, which caused her to die inside even before she let go. Then he remembered her reaching the breaking point, when too much carbon dioxide overruled her will, so she involuntarily opened her mouth and dirty water flooded her lungs.
He remembered her pain. Her body shutting down.
Cold sweat. He unplugged the device from behind his ear and threw it over the counter.
‘No discomfort?’, he yelled.
The guy behind the counter collected the device, looked at its product code.
‘Oh sorry, my bad. I accidentally placed this person’s death-struggle among the PG-13 memories. PG-13 and not G. This is Amsterdam you know. Red Light district and all that’.
The guy’s face suddenly lit up.
‘You still want it though? I can give you a 5% inconvenience discount’.
The title of my story is flood, but that is not a requirement. As long as flood (flooding, flooded) appears in the body you’d be good to go.
I used 318 words. I could have used a few more, but not many!
What do you think of the story? Does it suck or do you like it?