Facebook status messages are amusing, but when they borrow from long-forgotten Camp Lo lyrics, they are empyreal for their ability to summon Mnemosyne, who then sets up her projector for an impromptu mental picture show entitled “nostalgia”.
Seeing SM commenter Yeti’s “Yeti thinks this is it, what” took me back to 1997 at Formula One speeds, when “Luchini” lived in my car stereo (and my driving of a non-McLaren Mercedes was about as sloppy as Schumacher’s at Jerez). Luchini was a prominent part of my soundtrack in the late 90s; the tape it was on (ha!) flipped constantly via auto-reverse as I roamed from the legendary-but-now-defunct Green Planet in Davis to Newpark Mall’s then-revolutionary Forever 21, for hoochie ‘fits to wear to San Francisco’s Sol y Luna (and inevitably and regrettably, Steps of Rome* immediately after that) in North Beach. 1997. Sunroof always open, speeding down 880, being 22…that was it, what.
Obviously, since this song has been on auto-reverse in my head for the last 24 hours, you know what’s coming next: it’s our Flash Fiction 55Friday theme! This week, as you ponder participation pensively, get inspired by Sonny Cheeba’s** Dadaist lyrics and blaxploitation fetish. Alternately, you could choose your own “damn, it’s been years since I heard that”-joint for a starting point or write about something unrelated to excellent hip-hop entirely.
If you’re newer to the Mutiny or you have already forgotten what we did with Radiohead two weeks ago, allow me to refresh your drink.
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.[wiki]
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]
So, craft a story with exactly 55-words (no more, no less) about anything even remotely related to our theme and leave it in the comments below. If you’re still not convinced that this is a worthwhile timesuck OR you can’t wrap your head around how a story so tiny would even work, peep this, my favorite 55 from our previous, election-themed edition:
I crawled from the wreckage of the cab, dazed. I couldn’t feel my left side.
“You okay?” a man asked.
I lurched toward the crowd of onlookers, my leg dragging.
“I… vote…Obama!” I gasped.
His face registered alarm. “Buddy, you gotta get to a hospital!” he said.
I shoved him aside.
“Fuck… you… Clintonite!” [srsly]
Excellent 55, Saurabh. Your submission made me laugh out loud. This week, it should be even easier to flash us with fiction, considering our Camp-y subject. If anyone thinks this song is suboptimal inspiration, know that when Yeti put the needle on the record, when the drum beats go like this with his Luchini-enhanced Facebook status, he mercifully replaced that “My arms get cold…in February air“-noize` from the Old Navy commercials, which had been stuck in my head for DAYS. Would you have rather had that? Didn’t think so.
*If the non-human vermin which now infest Steps (see the “regrettably” link) aren’t icky enough, look what they did when I was just trying to reapply lipstick one night, four years ago! You can get that lap dance there for free, but who wants it? I know, serves me right for the cosmetic-application-in-public faux pas, but COME ON.
** I swear there was a kid with this name at either Davis or Cal.
`Before you ask– it’s by Lights.