Less than 400 words. Flash fiction

brianpatrick · #1 03-12-2017, 05:50 PM

Pop! Pop! Pop!

I was sitting at the little kids picnic table when the gunshots went off. Luckily the kids had all been shipped to a babysitter's for the party. It was adults only.

I immediately tried to duck down under the plastic table top but my body and legs wouldn't both fit. Besides, could molded plastic stop a bullet anyway?

Virginia was here somewhere but I couldn't see her. I pulled myself out from the Little Tykes, unentangling my legs and running backwards on my arms like a crab.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Another three rounds. Shit!

I'd stopped counting at a dozen beers, and some guy had come by with a joint earlier—think his name was Ernest, or maybe Evan? I couldn't see him either. Maybe he was dead.

I caught my reflection in the Arcadia door and soldier-crawled on my elbows across the concrete, sliding down a gravel drop into the side yard I didn't know existed. Pop! Pop! Pop! Another volley. Holy shit!

I saw tortured mutilated twisting falling bodies splatting onto the dry concrete all around me in my mind. I heard their voices. They filtered through the endless delay pedal of fear and stoning, ricocheting around my full skull like popcorn popping.

'Pop! Pop! Pop! Another volley. Fuck!

There was a vee shaped run, a ravine with a light at one end. I was blurry, damn blurry. My glasses had fallen off and without them I couldn't see shit.
I was left with a dilemma. Light or dark? Light or dark?

I chose light.

There was movement that way, what I presumed to be people escaping a massacre. I wasn't sure. I wanted to get up and run but was afraid to leave the dirt. It's a funny feeling when you stand up and your head becomes a possible target.

I pulled myself quickly to the light and found a small crowd gathering around what was—Virginia? Wearing goggles and ear muffs, and holding a small caliber pistol. She turned around, her long brown hair swinging. "Brian? what are you doing down there?"

"I—uh... I..." was what I said.

"The Revers are teaching me how to shoot a pistol! You see out there, the little white steel target? There, past the farthest fence, on the hill," she said. She was so happy. "I've hit it three times! It makes a big ping!"

bluewpc · #2 03-12-2017, 07:33 PM

A few suggestions. Id highlight them in red but I guess we don't rate that.

I was sitting at the little kids picnic table when the gunshots went off. Luckily, the kids had all been shipped to a babysitter's for the party. It was adults only.

Drop the comma.

I immediately tried to duck down under the plastic table top but my body and legs wouldn't both fit. Besides, could molded plastic stop a bullet anyway?

Immediately I ducked down under the plastic table top but my legs and body wouldnt fit both. Besides, could molded plastic stop a bullet anyways?

Virginia was here somewhere but I couldn't see her. I pulled myself out from under the Little Tykes, unentangling my legs, and running backwards on my arms like a crab.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Another three rounds. Shit!

Three dull pops sounded. Shit!

I'd stopped counting at a dozen beers, and some guy had come by with a joint earlier—I thought his name was Ernest, or maybe Evan? I couldn't see him either. Maybe he was dead.

I caught my reflection in the Arcadia door and rolled onto my belly and soldier-crawled on my elbows across the concrete, sliding down a gravel drop into the side yard I didn't know existed. Another volley sounded.

I saw tortured mutilated twisting falling bodies, splatting onto the dry concrete all around me in my mind. I heard their voices, filtered through the endless delay pedal of fear and stoning—echoing across my brain—ricocheting around my full skull like popcorn popping: 'Pop! Pop! Pop! Another volley. Fuck!

Id rework this paragraph. As you use the same type of sentence consecutively three times wherein the sentence ends twice with things resounding in his pate and the third in the middle: "...around me in my mind/echoing across my brain/richocheting around my full skull."

There was a vee shaped run, a ravine with a light at one end and darkness at the other. I was blurry, damn blurry. My glasses had fallen off and without them I couldn't see shit. I looked down each path. Light or dark? Light or dark?

I chose light.

There was movement that way, what I presumed to be people escaping a massacre. I wasn't sure. I wanted to get up and run but was afraid to leave the dirt. It's a funny feeling when you stand up and your head becomes a possible target.

I crawled quickly to the light and found a small crowd gathering around what was—Virginia? Wearing goggles and ear muffs, and holding a small caliber pistol. She turned around, her long brown hair swinging. "Brian? what are you doing down there?"

"I—uh... I..." was what I said.

"The Revers are teaching me how to shoot a pistol! You see out there, the little white steel target? There, past the farthest fence, on the hill," she said. She was so happy. "I've hit it three times! It makes a big ping!"

The irony of this piece...god one would think he'd never escape a real massacre...

brianpatrick · #3 03-12-2017, 07:59 PM

He and I would never escape a real massacre😀

Your suggestions were good. I fixed them.

moonpunter · #4 03-12-2017, 08:05 PM

You waste a lot of words with the table in the beginning.

bluewpc · #5 03-12-2017, 08:12 PM

@moonpunter I think you just need a hug.

brianpatrick · #6 03-12-2017, 08:17 PM

Originally Posted by moonpunter

You waste a lot of words with the table in the beginning.

Hmm... maybe. But the kids table says brian is a drunk ridiculous moron. I mean, why is he sitting at a kids plastic picnic table at an adult party? It's the set up for the joke.

There is something wrong there in the beginning, but I wrote this piece in 20 minutes and haven't had enough time away to edit it with a clear head.

Yeah, I'm drunk. But hey, It's Sunday. Day of the lord, right?

brianpatrick · #7 03-12-2017, 10:13 PM

This is another in a long line of Brian and Virginia stories. I was worried it wouldn't stand alone without the rest. So far that crit hasn't come up.

Phew! Most of you haven't read the rest of them.

moonpunter · #8 03-13-2017, 08:55 AM

Originally Posted by brianpatrick

Hmm... maybe. But the kids table says brian is a drunk ridiculous moron. I mean, why is he sitting at a kids plastic picnic table at an adult party? It's the set up for the joke.

There is something wrong there in the beginning, but I wrote this piece in 20 minutes and haven't had enough time away to edit it with a clear head.

Yeah, I'm drunk. But hey, It's Sunday. Day of the lord, right?

You could slim it down a little like : It was an adult party but I got stuck sitting at the kiddie picnic table.

Nick Pierce · #9 03-13-2017, 02:46 PM

The story has some rather irresponsible gun handling.

That being noted I kinda liked it for the psuedo emasculated male tone.

If they were the Revere's rather than the Revers there would be a subliminal association with the surname of that guy named Paul.

IanG · #10 03-16-2017, 07:34 AM

Don't worry about it not standing alone, I think it does. I didn't know when I started reading that you've used these characters in other stories, but it made no difference.

I've used the same characters in more than one story; sometimes I do refer back to an earlier one while trying no to hold up the present tale. So far no one has pulled me up about it either, so hopefully I'm getting it right.

Nice twist at the end of your story.