“Hey! You called?”
I knocked again. Still nothing. Tested the door. Opened it.
Stepped inside. Guy was propped up against the wall, clutching a bottle, staring right at me. Whole place smelled like Mary Jane and old sweat. Goddamn.
“You wanted something?”
“Yeah,” he said. He glanced around the room. “Make me, you know, great. Spectacular. Okay?”
“Not much to work with,” I said, taking in the studio. “But you got yourself a deal, all right?”
No response. Probably wouldn’t even remember me come morning, so I left just a hint of brimstone to remind him of my visit.
Turns out that writing flash fiction every week makes it a whole lot easier to write short snippets of text. Scientific abstracts are now a snap: “only 150 words” means 50 extra words! Yay! Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.
I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer. The weekly photo that inspired this story is below: