“Anna asks. We write. Friday afternoon :)”

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Once upon a time…well, it was actually just a week ago, a beloved Sepia personality asked:

yay! I love Fast Fiction Fridays at the Mutiny. Can we do it again next week?

Of course we can, darling. “55 Fiction Friday” is a meme I’ve been faithful to for a while; I’m happy to infect the Mutiny with it.

For those of you who missed last week’s brilliance and have no idea what I’m going on about, the idea behind “Fast Fiction” is simple:

Flash fiction, also called sudden fiction, micro fiction, postcard fiction or short-short fiction, is a class of short story of limited word length. Definitions differ but is generally accepted that flash fiction stories are at most 200 to 1000 words in length. Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word flash: “For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.” Traditional short stories are 2,000 to 10,000 words in length…One type of flash fiction is the short story with an exact word count. An example is 55 Fiction or Nanofiction. These are complete stories, with at least one character and a discernible plot, exactly 55 words long.[wiki]

More than a few bloggers have been writing a piece of nanofiction every Friday, for weeks.

I was elated at the response that my post on this meme inspired– comment after comment containing perfect little gems of story– we’d be crazy NOT to create a tradition out of such goodness.

What goodness it was. By the time I closed comments at the end of the weekend (a practice I think I’ll continue), we were in the triple digits.

Umair made me lightheaded when he channeled the book I love most:

Transported back to 1951, the thought of making money by betting on cricket matches yet to happen was for some strange reason furthest from my mind, which should give you a sense of just how at home I felt with the whole affair. But then: “I wish she’d married either Kabir or Amit. . .”

Brand spanked anew Guest blogger Ads also penned a 55 I adored:

“OK, almost done. Better?”
F T O M Z became a smudge.
“Or worse?”

“Worse.”

“Ok. Well, your right eye is 20/125, but your left eye is actually 15/20.”
For a moment he wondered if he could be the guy that singlehandedly brought back the monocle, but ultimately, he went with the wire-rimmed Kenneth Coles.

Finally, there was one piece of nanofiction which moved into my home and loitered around corners like a ghost playing tricks on my peripheral vision. It was the story I loved most, out of the almost hundred that were contributed (and that’s saying something, because dozens of them were excellent). Paranoid Android, take a bow:

All that stood between Simone and her honeymoon was a report submission.

“He is never on time!” she fumed, as the office clock ticked 8:45 AM. She could almost see the single-engine plane they were flying to Hawaii. She gazed at infinity in clear NY sky, to divert her mind.

“Isn’t that plane flying too low?”

I can’t believe an entire week has passed since I read that for the first time. I’m sure I’ll be expressing a similarly incredulous sentiment next week, when I meander through what you are about to write, looking for my next set of favorites. No pressure.

Now…on your marks, get set…create. 🙂

:+:

An enormous amount of gratitude to MD-didi for leaving a comment last week which provided me with a title when I could not conjure an apposite name for this post today. 🙂

61 thoughts on ““Anna asks. We write. Friday afternoon :)””

  1. I guess I may as well kick this off….

    60,000 Rajputs waited in the crisp dawn, armour glinting in the sunlight, horses battle-ready. The track down the mountainside twisted ahead, the green flags of the approaching legion already visible.

    With a thundering evocation to the Almighty, they raised their curved swords skywards in unison. The black smoke from the pyres billowed above the fortress.

  2. Though the room was hazy with smoke and the heat made her want to sleep, she looked around at the brightly colored elders. Eyes closed, swaying, chanting in languages she didnÂ’t understand, bells ringing. Random smiles from relative strangers.

    “I don’t know, either… I just throw things in the fire on ‘swa-haa’…” he grinned.

    Happy FastFictionFriday everyone! 🙂

  3. To the fanfare of security warnings they fled the country, and us. Tumbling downmarket, we sipped slowly in the moribund lounges, sizing up small-timers in shiny suits as though we had a choice. In darkness we courted disease, teeth clenched, eyes turned within. But at dawn we talked of life, and marveled at our sincerity.

  4. He liked all these restraints, whether ropes, ribbons, fifty-five words or that expression in her eyes that signalled others were near, and he knew she did too. It got to where they could barely imagine meeting except in the shadow of limitations that liberated them from distractions like choice, leaving them skin and sweat, distilled.

  5. Stuck on the Hyphen

    Roots you ask?

    “We have none,” I answer. “Not like the banyan trees of our youth, thousand of years old, solid and staid.”

    Born in a land not ours (so they say), un-belonging to a land that once was (or so IÂ’ve heard).

    IÂ’d rather trace my routes and see where they take me next.

  6. He had to choose. Between his love and his principles, between the light and dark, between his old Master and the new one.

    Why was life always so difficult?

    Anakin Skywalker sighed, closed his eyes and swung his light-saber. For once, let the f**ckin’ Force decide.

  7. Ice broke under the ankle. In a hospital room they conspired friendship. Set to work, she fumbled at the remote clumsily. In the boardroom she spat venom as they cornered her – then unbelievably granted reprieve. From the loft she saw the little woman walking towards the cab. She knew that it should have been her.

  8. The dark-haired, tuxedoed gentleman sat quietly at the roulette table. He gazed around the 7-Star hotel; of course, he already knew exactly who would lead him to ‘The Sheikh’.

    Nafisa brought him his drink, dark eyes glittering, her diamonds priceless. “Compliments of the Ambassador. He’s been asking for your name”.

    A faint smile. “Bond…..James Bond.”

  10. He battered the keyboard like he was making an omelette for a giant. A final note to the wife and kids. The crimson scales of the dragon looked like dying embers in that place, a forgotten airstrip where only the last possible dreams to anywhere took off. CanÂ’t believe the prices you can get off the net, he thoughtÂ…

  11. He returned to his dorm after the last night of initiation. “You will ALL score tomorrow night” the pledgemaster had emphasized. Excited with anticipation, he hurried to his room and found a note: yer mom called 4x, call her asap.

    “Beta, are you sitting? Your sister’s been brutally raped.”

  14. Yet another one of those online surveys. Michael paused when reaching the “Marital Status” dropdown menu, then selected “Married.” Maybe it wasn’t politically correct, but Steve never cooked or tidied the apartment. He didn’t even volunteer to do so much as take the dogs for a walk! You could hardly call it a “Domestic Partnership.”

  16. Another Friday, another challenge from Anna. I keep sneaking back to the computer to peruse the stories one by one, relishing the particularly juicy ones. Some make me laugh so hard I cry. And some just make me cry.

    Geez. I need to get a life. And some real friends.

  17. jay — fair enough — how about you tell us at the end of the day. (if i figure it out before, i’ll tell you. i’m thinking maybe it’s something obvious and i’m just being totally dense…)

  18. Siddharth – it might spoil the fun if I spilled… or maybe I just swung and missed!

    Jay, I still don’t get it. Is this an American pop-culture reference?

    ~Clueless Kenyan

  19. I still don’t get it. Is this an American pop-culture reference?

    Yes it is. But it depends how much American TV you have access too. I managed to crack it after reading it a couple of times — it’s actually very clever.

    I could provide a hint but I suspect Jay wants to prolong the suspence….

  22. I don’t watch tv, so I’m eternally clueless. 🙁 oh well, I’ll just chalk it up to a nice, pretty stream of consciousness and know that it means something to someone, somewhere…

  23. I haven’t figured out the James Bond tale quite yet. But here’s a kitty story in the meantime.

    —

    5:00 AM. A pet cage dangled on a rope from the balcony above.

    A black kitten, green eyes, sat petrified on my windowsill. Now what?

    “My cat got out. He’s on your balcony,” was the neighbor’s plea.

    Ten minutes later, kitty was safe and sound and I fell asleep, convinced it was all a dream.

  24. Her gaze was unwavering; gentle, calm, heartfelt, her eyes large and the colour of black coffee, skin porcelain, long black hair framing her lovely face, head resting on her right hand.

    Kabir listened, drowning in the experience, one light in two bodies.

    “If there is a paradise on Earth, it is here, it is here…..”

  25. This is nice, she thought. So calm, so peaceful. SheÂ’d never felt so comfortable. Every muscle in her body was relaxed. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

    A blur of voices slowly came into focus. The final moment of tranquility ready to be shattered.

    “Mom, can you hear me? You’ve had a stroke.”

  26. Her gaze was unwavering; gentle, calm, heartfelt, her eyes large and the colour of black coffee, skin porcelain, long black hair framing her lovely face, head resting on her right hand. Kabir listened, drowning in the experience, one light in two bodies. “If there is a paradise on Earth, it is here, it is here…..”

    Melting, melting, melting, all over my keyboard and campbell’s soup at hand.

  27. Boys and Monkeys

    He proudly told me of childhood pranks, Of TPing houses, egging them too. I thought how foolish And immature, Mostly how disrespectful he was.

    I never understood the gleam in his eye, Until one day when we went camping, A bunch of monkeys trashed our campsite The very same gleam in theirs I did spy.

  28. Quit your pornographic posing, your ass suspended above my head, bouncing up and down, like a defective guillotine. You must have been a horror for your mother and you donÂ’t even know how to loveÂ…stop winking at my deceit, I donÂ’t want to see you again, get out, get out, get out, your smile gets too comfortable, like a silk scarf kissing my neckÂ…

  29. Beach Blues He asked a passer-bye if he would take a picture while he surprised his wife. Racing back, he grabbed her and kissed her passionately.

    “Wave!” The photographer immediately commanded. Embarrassed, they pulled apart thinking they had offended him.

    They dutifully pumped their hands back and forth as a wave came by and drenched them both.

  30. Here’s a clue to the Jay riddle….she was covered in SM a while back. I’ll collate the clues for you again 1) Boardroom 2) American TV 3)the ‘Loft vs. cab’ decision.

    OMG, I totally gave it away 🙂

  31. Petulant impatience prevented her from prowling to power. Persistence proved pointless in her pursuit. Peter had pointed her to the path on which she must prevail, but had not counted on her proven inability to pander to powerful people.

    Pondering PriscillaÂ’s predicament, Paulie postured that playground politics had never been so painful in the past.

  34. From the distance, through the film of my mind’s eye, I pieced her together. “You think you know me so well,” she tsked before the smoky, hazy clouds enveloped her again. I searched for her, helpless, quill in hand, but to no avail. She shouldn’t have summoned me if she didn’t want her story scribed.

  35. Amsterdam to Delhi flight, winter, 2001

    Gurdeep: Can I please sit next to you? Those bhai sahibs over would not let me drink. Me: Where from? How often to India?

    Gurdeep: A Canadian through political asylum. Every six months.

    Me: ShouldnÂ’t you shun India.

    Gurdeep: Were no jobs in Punjab. Had to. We both laughed.

  36. He watched as the axe came down. Once.Twice.Thrice. The severed head lay at his feet- blood, mangled nerves and puntured veins.

    He held the head in his hands and stroked his daughterÂ’s cheeks gently.

    He had had no choice. He could’nt have let her tell anyone. That night between them would remain a secret now.

  37. If not for his family, she didnÂ’t know how she would have managed through his death. Through the flames in the pyre, only the grief on his parentsÂ’ faces seemed to match her own.

    A few weeks later, she received a registered letter in the mail. They wanted her to give up their sonÂ’s assets.

  39. Et voila:

    “I’d rather be lonely than happy with somebody new” Nina Simone wails on repeat. I know how much you didn’t like her (“too strident”) I’ve cut my hair, and picked up smoking again. I’ve done all this, and you’re still gone, gone, gone. If you’re spiteful, and no one sees it – does it still count?

  41. NOT WAR

    “At last!”

    “You were beautiful, sweetie. It was like being in a dream.”

    “I trembled when the actual moment came.”

    “No one can tell us, now, who to love, to whom we may be married.”

    “God. I love you. MY husband.”

    They held each other tenderly and George discretely wiped a tear from SaddamÂ’s eye.

  42. HELPLESS

    “Your turn to change him.”

    “Oh crap.”

    “You can say that again. Up you go mister.”

    Jay got up from the sofa and went over to TylerÂ’s cot. Tyler looked up with a toothless smile. The stench was overpowering.

    “Don’t look as if you’re enjoying it so much,” said Jay, “OK, raise your leg dad.”

  43. NICE ONES

    They were simply massive. A pair of milky globes the likes of which he had never seen before.

    Arjun was starting to get over-excited. But he just couldnÂ’t stop staring.

    Finally, breathless, he pulled himself away, opened his notebook and wrote: “Two new colonies detected.”

    He switched off the microscope and called it a night.

  45. GO HORNS!

    If eyes are windows to your soul, the eyes of the man facing him were shuttered and dark. Looking to either side he saw his comrades look back at him with the grim steel of their helmeted warfaces.

    As the sea of burnt orange screamed “Sooners Suck!” in unison, he felt less freshman and more man.

  47. Really good guys, Keep them coming. Spoiler alert, Those who did not get DDIA’s clue read on for a detailed analysis of Jay’s 55. 😀

  49. Wonderful, wonderful contributions! I am really enjoying reading them.

    TO A SON:

    It started with that old jazzy song, do you know it?

    It started like this: he left his wife to come sit at my table and said, “do you like this song?” I answered yes. And as I recall, he reached over and sipped from my martini.

    And that is how I met your father.

  50. FOR JAI

    When Aurangzeb took Hyderabad and came to the Begum’s tomb to pray at the mosque next door, he saw that the one-time courtesan had been wily indeed: four anklets – one on each minaret – tinkled through the stone. The Great Mughal, outraged by this whorish conjunction, had another mosque built. It remains, small and cramped.