by Naomi L. | May 13, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
The archery competition was to be held in the village.
The grand prize: ten thousand coins and a kiss.
He was only here to win the latter.
He’d loved the lord’s daughter since childhood.
Secretly, she prayed for his victory.
He drew his bow steadily.
His arrow flew straight.
The maiden smiled.
True shot.
Bullseye.
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
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by Naomi L. | April 15, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
Above ground, the sounds of the waves fill the air.
But underwater, you can only hear your own heartbeat.
I’d wanted to see one my whole life.
Now was my chance to find them.
Through the reef we slowly dove.
Until we finally saw them.
Huge, distant moving shapes.
We stared, spellbound.
Colossal beauties.
Whales.
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
by Naomi L. | April 8, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
Science never ceases to surprise me.
I’d have sworn my project was like any other of its kind: collect samples in the field, run DNA tests, analyze and discuss the data, write the paper. Simple as that. Ironically, evolutionary studies don’t usually qualify as groundbreaking, just substantiating at best. We’re all trying to support the same idea: that life is constantly changing.
I studied reef fish biogeography and evolution for half my years at college, so by the time I got into grad school, I knew their patterns pretty well. I didn’t expect anything different when I took on a project about yet another reef fish species. Evaluate its genetic connectivity along the coast, that’s all there was to it. My project was a simple matter of collecting specimens from different locations and comparing their DNA to get a picture of how it was evolving in a given biogeographic province.
Nothing out of the ordinary came up during the sampling and amplification periods. The surprise came when I analyzed the data.
I remember that moment distinctly. Exhausted from weeks of amplifying DNA, reading papers, and writing and rewriting the first parts of my thesis, I was finally sitting down at my computer to compare the sequences. I took a sip of coffee just as the program finally finished running the data… and almost spit it out at the sight of the phylogenetic tree that appeared on the screen. Where I had expected to see a single branch containing all my sequences, there were two separate clades dividing the samples collected from the northern and southern coastal regions. Two geographically close populations that should have been almost identical somehow had a 10% genetic divergence between them. Was that even possible?
An excitement like I hadn’t felt in years overcame me, but I still had to be sure. I ran the data again using three different parameters. All three trees produced the same result: North here, South there. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Yet there it was on my screen, plain as the nose on my face. The results were clear beyond a shadow of a doubt: I was dealing with…
“A new species?!”
I jumped up from my chair and ran next door to my professor’s office. Within the minute, I was showing him the trees on my computer and watching his expression change from puzzled to amazed. I knew exactly why we should be so excited by this result; it meant there were other evolutionary processes at play that we hadn’t expected. In anticipation of the stimulating discussions ahead, I knew the grin on my face wouldn’t disappear for at least a week. My project had just gotten way more interesting.
Science never ceases to surprise me. And I hope it never will.
by Naomi L. | February 26, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
You’ve always been afraid of the mean things they’d say.
But those kids will never get anywhere in life.
Show them you don’t care what they think.
They don’t deserve your time or fear.
Come join me on the floor.
Let your hair down tonight.
And stop being afraid.
Just have fun!
Let loose!
Dance!
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
by Naomi L. | February 5, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
Does he know?
I ask myself this question every day, every time he looks at me, every time he talks to me, every time he smiles at me. Whenever I think I’m figuring out the answer, he distracts me and keeps me guessing. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose, just sitting there concentrating, brow furrowed, pencil between his teeth, like he knows he’s the cutest thing ever without even trying.
He must know.
Maybe he really is clueless. I never gave him a reason to suspect anything might be different. We’ve always been close. He talks to me so casually, like I’m just one of the guys. He seems innocently unaware of how my heart skips a beat every time he looks me in the eye or touches my shoulder or says my name. Somehow that makes him even cuter.
He couldn’t know.
Discreetly, he glances over his shoulder, then he pulls a bar of chocolate from his pocket and offers me a piece under the table. The librarian is strict about the no-food-or-drink policy, so it’s almost like he’s taking a huge risk for me. I take it with a smile and hope he doesn’t notice my face turning red.
Will he ever know?
Sometimes I wish he hadn’t been such a gentleman at the spring dance. I wish he hadn’t insisted we go together, or asked me to dance, or joked about how I’m the only girl who understands him. That’s how this all started: he made me see him in a whole new light. It was the first time I ever really thought of him as a boy. Now I have to tell myself over and over that we’re just friends. Just friends. The words sting like ice in my heart, this stupid fragile teenage heart.
He’ll never know.
I know I have to accept that he may never see me as anything more than his best friend. And yet I can’t stop asking myself that one question.
Does he know… that I love him?
by Naomi L. | January 22, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
The phoenix is a legendary bird of strength and wisdom.
But it’s nothing if it cannot set itself ablaze.
She feared she would never have such courage.
Until the first time she touched fire.
Now she hungered for that power.
She summoned the magic within.
Suddenly, her feathers ignited.
She burned fiercely.
True phoenix.
Rise.
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
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