The Genre Gauntlet: Flash Fiction
Next stage of my genre gauntlet is flash fiction.
The most famous piece of flash fiction is Ernest Hemingway’s legendary six-word story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." In just six words, Hemingway crafted a world of emotion, sparking curiosity, heartbreak, and reflection. This distilled form of storytelling shows the incredible power of brevity.
Flash fiction thrives on compression - every word must earn its place. While definitions vary, flash fiction often ranges from six words to under 1,000 words, with some sub-genres like "micro fiction" falling under 100 words. The goal is to tell a complete story: a character, a conflict, and a resolution - all in miniature.
This month, I’ll attempt to write some flash fiction myself. I plan to draw inspiration from real-life moments - the kinds of stories we all have tucked away. You know the ones: those anecdotes you tell a friend over coffee, the fleeting moments that linger in your mind.
I’m aiming to create 6 six-word flash fiction piece along with two slightly longer stories under 100 words. Flash fiction may be small, but its impact can resonate far beyond the brevity of its form. I look forward to seeing how these tiny tales unfold.
6-word story
1. Last night…don’t ask, don’t remember.
2. X-ray glows. Doctor pauses. Life shifts.
3. Final bell. Empty desk. New path.
4. Blank page. Pen moves. Worlds unfold.
5. Eyes meet. Hearts race. Everything changes.
6. Title embossed. Pages turn. Dream realized.
100 word story.
Ancient Wisdom (According to Teenagers)
I had been tutoring Isla for a while, and her progress had been nothing short of impressive. Her newfound love of mathematics now seemed to eclipse my own. We were working through a Roman numeral equation when the answer appeared: 2002.
"Gosh, that’s an old question," Isla remarked.
"Do you think so? Feels like yesterday," I replied.
"Were you alive in 2002?"
"Yes," I chuckled. "I was born in 1989."
"Whoa!"
"Let’s say 'wow' rather than 'whoa,'" I said. "I’m not that old."
We carried on for a while until Isla stopped, her pen hovering above the page. Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head, eyes narrowing, "So did you have a quill at school?"
I burst out laughing. "No quill, but we did use fountain pens in some classes."
"What’s a fountain pen?"
I launched into a rambling explanation that only confused her more, so I resorted to Google. Isla peered at the image, squinting as if deciphering hieroglyphs. Finally, she turned back to me, her face deadpan.
"So basically... you wrote with a boring quill."
I opened my mouth to argue but thought better of it. Some battles you just can’t win.
Lost, Then Found
The red balloon tugged at his wrist, dancing in the breeze. “Hold tight,” his mother warned. But a gust tore it away. His eyes widened as it spiralled upward. “It’s gone,” he whimpered. She knelt beside him. “Maybe someone will find it,” she said softly, brushing his hair back. “Maybe they need it more.”
Miles away, a boy sat alone on his porch, hugging his knees. The wind whispered past, and something red drifted into his yard. He reached out, fingers curling around the string. He smiled for the first time in days, clutching his unexpected gift.
Reflecting on my journey through flash fiction, I've come to appreciate just how powerful short stories can be. There’s something magical about distilling a moment, an emotion, or a life-changing event into just a handful of words. Each tiny tale feels like a spark - brief yet capable of igniting something much larger.
Writing and these pieces has taught me that the smallest stories can often leave the deepest impact. As I continue exploring genres, I'll carry this lesson with me: words don't need to be many to matter. Sometimes, the briefest of stories are the ones that stay with us the longest.
Next month: Science fiction
#TheGenreGauntlet #WritingChallenge #FlashFiction