Flash Fiction Experiment #1: A Quality Update At Last!

In order to get my blog back on the right track of spirited, joyful romping (you may have noticed I nixed the political one - sorry to those who commented.) I've decided to try a little 'spearmint' - writing Flash Ficiton.

From what I understand, Flash Ficiton is supposed to be short and spontaneous, so here goes:

It was a dark night in the mountains of Wherever. I was hanging off a cliff by my fingers, feeling the warm breeze of exhaust fumes. I wasn't in any trouble, I was just engaging in a favorite activity when everyone else has gone away.

What I like to do is drive my truck out to the edge of a cliff, back it right up to the edge, get out of the truck with it still running, and gently lower myself until I'm just dangling by my arms. Then I time myself to see how long I can stay like that, with the deadly carbon monoxide blowing in my face, until I chicken out, and climb back up, get in the truck and then leave. Of course, If the fumes knock me out or if I slip and fall, I'm toast - unquestionably dead.

I've never told anyone I do this mainly because I don't want competition. I've been able to hang for 15 minutes with one end of a torn garbage bag funneling the exhaust fumes straight at me. But I've got it down to a science. If I start to get dizzy, I turn my head so I can get a fresher breath of air. So far I hold the world record in this, and I don't want any challengers.

I think tomorrow I'll try it with a live scorpion on my head.


No that's not really the end. I finally fell, but I cheated this time and brought a parachute.I've learned my lesson and I'm not going to do it anymore. I've grown as a person because of this experience. Then I lived happily ever after.

THE (real) END

I think I've got room to grow in this medium. Anyway,  l8r, g8trs. stay gr8!



  1. *laugh* This sounds like a pseudo-noir story I once wrote in high school. I think I started out:
    It was a dark and stormy night. Well, not really - just a really dark and stormy day - when trouble walked in the door. Well, I don't think her name was really Trouble, but...

    And sort of deteriorated from there...

  2. I appreciate how you're always there to entertain even the most drivel-y of my drivel. Whenever I hear "it was a dark and stormy night" I think of Snoopy sitting with his typewriter on top of his doghouse. It's a shame he never got to finish the story. Woodstock was always giving him a hassle, I think.

  3. I loved this Ford :-) You have a great sense of humor.

  4. Thanks, Ben. Your comment made my day.