I spend hella amounts of time on a Facebook page called Ninja Writers. It's an interesting page full of writing prompts and contests. I decided to put some of my Ninja Writers stories in this space. Most of my stories are flash fiction. This section will contain my flash non-fiction stories. I have a defined amount of time to finish each story that can range from 15 minutes to several hours, but I always finish flash fiction in one sitting, excluding bathroom breaks.
Less than 1,000 words
Finish in one sitting
Prompt: write about an authority figure
Note: everything in this story is absolutely true except that I don't drink coffee
A Little Somethin' Somethin'
I’m elated. Is the sun a little warmer on my face? Do the birds chirp a little louder in my ears? Is there a little somethin’, somethin’ in this McDonald’s coffee besides coffee? I’m giddy. Larry, the editor of Purple Clover, likes my story. He wants to read more of it. I’ve pitched him dozens of ideas; he’s finally approved one. This is it. I can actually feel it in my bones. This is the story that will launch my career. I’ve dissected every word, every sentence, every paragraph. It’s perfect, but just to be on the safe side, I read it one more time. Should I use an exclamation mark, or not? Oh, this makes my stomach hurt. What if I’m rejected because of one exclamation mark? Did Mark Twain develop IBS over an exclamation mark? I need some Mylanta or a margirita or both.
I hit the send button and await the accolades. Nope, I’m not going to sit here and wait. I have things to do and people to see, or is it people to do and things to see? I don’t know; I just know that all my hard work will not have been in vain. The hours of struggle will have been worth it when my glorious byline appears under their masthead. I wonder if Larry likes fruit. Maybe I’ll send him an edible arrangement. Nope, can’t do that; I have no money; I’m a writer. That’s okay, my fortunes will turn soon. I wonder how long it will be before I get a book deal.
Wow, I’ve already heard back from him. He probably likes it so much he just couldn’t wait to tell me. I think I’ll go ahead and send that arrangement; the electricity bill can wait. I can’t find my credit card. Oh well, I need to read what Larry has to say. He’s so smart; I bet he’s good-looking too. He probably has one of those corner offices that’s all glass and looks down on LA. I’ll probably have to move to LA when TPTB in Hollywood ask me to write the screenplay for my story. That's going to be a pain because I hate traffic.
I’ve read his email three times, and I’m still not sure I’m reading it correctly. My story is not quite what he’s looking for; what the hell does he mean by that? It was what he was looking for an hour ago. He must be an idiot, and you know he’s probably ugly as sin. That’s why he’s an editor and not an actor. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t send that arrangement. Where’s the whiskey? I need a little somethin’, somethin’ in this coffee.