by Naomi L. | July 10, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(First place winner of Writer’s Carnival’s June Author-less Flash contest!)
They say it’s always the one you least suspect.
The police had three suspects. All of them had motive to poison Frank’s whiskey, to want him dead.
Uncle Jerry had threatened him last year for gambling away his hard-earned savings.
Aunt Rose hated him for cheating her out of her share of their inheritance.
Linda was still furious about all his drinking and philandering, even after leaving him three years ago.
But everyone had an alibi for the day of Frank’s murder. No one seemed to miss him anyway, so in the end, the police chalked his death up to suicide and closed the case.
Funny how they never thought someone might have killed him to protect a loved one. Only I knew he wouldn’t hurt sweet little Maddie anymore.
They say it’s always the one you least suspect.
Luckily for me, nobody ever suspects the cat.
by Naomi L. | May 29, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
My heart stopped when my bedroom door began to open.
My computer had frozen, now of all times, and my mother was going to see all the dirty pictures I’d been looking up for the last hour!
But just as she stepped into the room, my screen suddenly shut off.
I turned around to see my cat standing on the computer plug, staring back at me with a look in his eyes that read: You owe me.
He’s going to feast on cat treats for the rest of his life.
Based on a superhero-themed writing prompt from Writer’s Carnival: Unlikely Hero.
You are saved from an embarrassing situation by the unlikeliest of heroes. Write a quick scene, no more than five sentences, describing this.
I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
by Naomi L. | May 22, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
“Remember the old days, when people used to cheer ‘Strongman!’ every time I threw a car at a villain and stopped him cold?”
“Now you’d get sued ’cause they just finished paying it off.”
“What about you, Lightning Girl? Your super speed used to be the talk of the town! What happened?”
“There’s nowhere to run anymore! A new building pops up in this city every month; the longest stretch of road anywhere is two blocks. That’s barely half a step!”
“At least invisibility still counts for something, right?”
“Hardly, Invisi-Boy! Kids today are so glued to their phones, they wouldn’t see a whale if it dropped out of the sky riding an army tank on fire!”
“What happened to the good old days?”
“Those days are long gone, my friend. Long gone indeed.”
Based on a superhero-themed writing prompt from Writer’s Carnival: Goooood Old Days!
You’re in the superhero old folks home. Write a banter piece about the “Good Old Days”. Dialogue only, no more than 12 lines.
I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
by Naomi L. | May 15, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
My friends insisted I come to the carnival with them.
For some reason, the fortune teller caught my eye.
She’s never wrong, the other gypsies warned us.
Come and learn your future, she said.
She laid the cards before us.
Flip to reveal your fate.
Sara’s fate was riches.
Joey’s was fame.
Mine, misfortune.
Death.
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. | May 1, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
Ms. Miller listened absently to the ticking of the clock, the only sound left in the classroom after her students simultaneously lowered their heads. Every last millisecond used to count, she remembered as she gazed longingly at the silver medal on her desk. Funny how a single leg injury could change everything.
—
Mary scribbled on her test paper as if she were deciphering a secret code for the military. Her father promised he would take her out for ice cream if she passed the semester with straight A’s. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever come back and make good on that promise, but for now, her only concern was mastering algebra.
—
Jane subconsciously snapped her pencil in half when she saw Michael staring at Laura’s behind. How silly she had been to think that pen-dropping incident was their special moment. He could beg all he wanted; she wasn’t helping him cheat this time.
—
As always, the numbers sat there quietly and encouraged George like puzzle pieces falling into place under his pencil. They never bullied him, or yelled at each other in front of him, or got drunk and beat him until he cried. George realized then why he loved math so much: it was the only thing in his life that made any sense.
—
By the time the bell rang and Johnny handed in his test, only half the problems had answers, and he knew half of those were wrong. In the hallway, he whistled a merry tune as he crossed paths with the cute girl who was a year behind him. Maybe next year, he would finally get to sit next to her.
These pieces are based on What If? Exercise 97: “Nanofictions”. The exercise is to write five flash fiction pieces of three sentences each, which may or may not be connected by a common detail. The objective is to understand how to focus immediately on a troubled situation and learn how to identify the details of drama. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
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by Naomi L. | April 24, 2015 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
She thought she was so special, that gringa. Everyone liked her. Everyone wanted to talk to her. Just because she came from America. So what? The girl couldn’t even speak a word of Portuguese! What was she doing in a seventh-grade classroom in Brazil? The whole first week she was here, she didn’t open her mouth once. Who wants to be friends with a girl like that?
She was useful for English class; I’ll give her that. She even kept a Portuguese-English dictionary in her desk at all times. I borrowed it more than once. She never offered it, though. She liked the popular girls better, I could tell. They were the ones who always talked to her and tried to teach her Portuguese. I went to school with these girls for years and they wouldn’t give me the time of day. This stranger was around for five minutes and somehow she deserved all their attention? Please. She wasn’t even as pretty as them. I bet they were just using her for help with English too.
One day, the Geography teacher made us work in groups of three. My friend and I got stuck with the American girl. I could see up close that she wasn’t so special as all that. I pointed out her flaws to my friend: that stupid ponytail, those dorky glasses, the silly way she’d tilt sideways when she wrote. I didn’t think she’d understand what I was saying anyway. Not until I saw the pitiful look in her eyes. She went home in tears. Crybaby.
My friend and I got in trouble the next day. Turns out the gringa had told her mom what happened, and her mom had talked to the principal. On top of everything else, the girl was a tattletale.
She thought she was so special, that gringa. But I knew what she really was: no better than me.
This story is based on What If? Exercise 66: “Bully”. The exercise is to write about a factual incident from the first-person perspective of someone who bullied you as a child. The objective is to practice writing a “villain” by taking over the persona of someone capable of brutality and making that character three-dimensional. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
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