This morning I asked my Facebook friends to help me with writing some flash fiction. The idea was that they would comment on the post with a phrase, picture or anything else and from that I would write around 100 words. It turns out that my friends are ridiculous people. Here are the results:
1. I Dance and I Play
“They pay more when I take my shirt off. So then I took my pants off too. Now I wear a mawashi. Or, at least, as close to a mawashi as I can fold my fitted sheet. My hair has grown, my beard too. Both are now white. My belly is engorged by the cells that are consuming me. Consuming me from the inside out. They spur me on, these uninvited guests. Quietly, powerfully making me live my life in a way I never knew I would. I can’t say I do what I do now, why this. Why I first picked up the wooden instrument and started to dance. Each day I stand on my pitch and I play. I dance and I play.”
2. Home is Where the Heart is
“The costume hangs empty on the window blinds, a mile too long and a mile too wide, waiting for a body to fill it. She has no idea how she’ll cope wearing the thick woolen fabric at the parade. Sure it’d be grand at home with the chilliness all around her, but here, in the unrelenting heat it’s a different story. She longs for the green grass and crisp air of home, especially when the streets are full of girls dancing, straight backed, straight armed. Now she wears the leprechaun onsie, watching youtube videos and sings the song about cockles and muscles being alive, alivo.”
3. A Lesson in Truth
“Quick frankly, I have no idea why I thought I would do it. I was asked to create a piece of art for a show. A friend’s show. The theme was “Cheating the Status Quo” a fucking pretentious title if ever I heard one. Honestly, what twat came up with that? Oh yes, my friend Roderick Willoughby de Eresby (whose real name is Derek Smith).
So I opened my freezer and pulled out a chicken. I left it out for a few days, outside of course, I’m not a philistine. Then I went to the fish monger and bought a fish. A trout to be exact. And I stuck that trout right up the chicken’s arse. Then, I stuck my fag into that trout’s mouth.
I’m calling it “A lesson in truth.””
Not a picture this time, but a phrase: “Girl named Debbie visits a town called Dallas”
“The bored looking man on the check in desk takes my passport, in a monotone he asks
‘What’s your name?’
‘Deborah Murley’ I say.
He raises an eyebrow and I’m sure I see the slight curve of one side of his lip
The raised lip turns into a shadow of a smirk. He stamps my passport, hands it back to me.
‘Well now, you enjoy yourself in Dallas, Deborah. I near the locals are real friendly’”
5. Basel Cathedral
“The man in the dusty overalls picks up the broom and starts to sweep. The cathedral is quiet now, the noise of the tourists have quieted down. As the man sweeps he starts to hum, the sounds echoing around the cavernous space around him. His hums get louder, then he opens his mouth and starts to sing. This is the time that he loves, he sings as if he is chasing his own voice around the great hall, the sound waves jumping from pillow to plaque and back to him; he sings in harmony with his own voice and the hairs on his arms stand on end when it comes back to him.”