28 December, 2012

An Experiment in Flash Fiction: Part 2

This part of the experiment was inspired by my Uncle's comment, wanting something to do with zombies, and a prompt from +Writ's new community page.

If you haven't yet, make sure you read Part 1, otherwise things won't make sense.

Enjoy and have a Happy New Year!

     Jeff kept looking at his smartphone while the helicopter flew over the bay. He was looking forward to this assignment, the first in his freelance career. The ad called for combat experience, something Jeff knew thanks to his countless years of martial arts. Now the waiting game, Jeff was briefed on the assignment countless times.

    “So we’re going onto this ship…thing,” He said. “And investigating what again?”

    Simon sighed, “The reports from the rescue crews. I thought you had experience in Resident Evil and zombie films. Viruses, mutations, that sort of thing?”

    Sophie nudged his shoulder, “He looks more Deep Fear than Walking Dead if you ask me. Guts, yes. Brains, not so much.”

    Jeff sighed and swore under his breath. He put the smartphone back in his pocket and looked straight at Simon, grinning.

    “Good! Now I’ll go over this again,” He said.

    It was a pretty straightforward assignment; go investigate a naval ship where reports indicated some members of the crew mutated into something else. This was what Simon called Operation Typical Day. Jeff rested his head on his own fingers during the umpteenth explanation.

    “So what’s your job in all this, Sir?” He asked.

    “Recording and writing down the whole thing,” Simon replied. “My friend here will be taking pictures and provide you with backup.”

    Jeff started laughing uncontrollably. All those tournaments, the street brawls, the studies under a highly respected teacher. All for this assignment.

    “So I’m pretty much your bodyguard,” He said. “While you and her investigate some dead, messed up bodies that could kill you at any time. The government must be desperate if they’re hiring journos for the military.”

    Sophie quickly took out her laser pistol and aimed it at his head. Simon pressed his feet down on top of Jeff’s, only softly.

    “So it’s a fraud then?” Simon asked.

    “What is?” Jeff replied.

“The resume you sent us.” He leaned in closer to Jeff. “Claimed that you were highly literate, a well to-do member of some mafia skilled in various martial arts, and a banker’s best friend. An air of a dreamer, I think.”

    Jeff stammered, “It’s real, Sir.”

“Then why…did you say that I’m from the government?”

“B-because you are.”

    Sophie sighed, “Then it’s all mad fake! Should I fry him?”

    “Not yet,” Simon replied.

    He took out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it. He passed it towards Jeff who recognized it as the flyer that started all this.

    “The hell’s this for?” He asked.

    “Simple question,” Simon replied, pointing down at the small text. “How is Neath a part of the government?”

    “Screw this one up and zap goes your life,” Sophie replied.

    Jeff grunted, “I don’t freakin’ know!”

    Simon grinned, “Then think on it. There’s plenty of time before we land.”

    Jeff sighed, this first day on the job receded back into the interview. Now the job and his life were on the line.

07 December, 2012

An Experiment in Flash Fiction: Part 1

Note: You may also translate the title as: A Short Story in Small Parts.

This was not intentional by many means, I was writing a flash fiction piece with some familiar characters and then I petered out by 766 words. While my flash fiction usually wraps itself up without any hesitation, this one ended abruptly, begging the question, "What's going on here?". So with that being said, I've decided to split this one into parts. Unfortunately, I don't know how many yet considering that the idea for this flash fiction just came into mind.

While this gives me a good excuse to play around with Scrivener, which I installed in October, I also want to know your thoughts. Where should the story go?

Let me know in the comments here or on my Google+ profile with any additional suggestions. Without further ado, my flash fiction experiment begins!

Edit: I cut it down to 526 words to make things more intriguing. Also, if there's an absence of suggestions I'll use a picture prompt from writing communities like +Writ and +Flash Fiction Project to further the story.

    “The battery still works,” Russell said, popping through the door.

    Dana woke up from her nap and turned to the door. Yep, Russell was still working on it; a battered Lincoln from the back-road’s pothole. It took him hours of waiting just for a tow truck to bring it back to his house. Considering this recent discovery, it was hours well spent.

    “Wha,” Dana asked, attempting to lift her head.

    “There’s still hope for that stallion,” Russell replied. “No matter how old and screwed up it is, I’ll raise it from the scrap heap.”

    Dana grumbled, “Yeah, you and your bad self. Fixing cars like it’s nobody’s business.”

“Ah,” Russell jumped back. “Do you doubt your mechanic?”

    Dana grunted and put her head back down. Russell laughed and went back to the garage.
It had been a long day aside from the Lincoln. Dana had her hands full on her day off thanks to Simon. He had been going through a sort of throes that even she could not understand.

    “Why is it so hard for you to say something,” She asked.

    Simon told her he felt there was no way to say anything, whatever it was sounded like a top secret something plus an extra dose of hush-hush. Dana tried to get this secret out but to no avail, “You’d think I’m mad!”

    She woke up to a series of sharp pangs on her shoulder. She finally stirred and turned her head around to look at her suspect.

     “I know you got this thing down,” She said. “Just go get me some yoghurt will ya?”

    “That’s funny,” The suspect said. “Russell told me you loved mac and cheese. You know, the instant Kraft things?”

    Dana rubbed her eyes, she did not realize that the person was Russell’s customer. Dana slowly lifted herself out of her seat.

    “Russell’s full of himself,” She said. “I got tired of that stuff months ago.”

    “So that’s why his shelves just…bare,” The client said. “So sorry for what you have to go through.”

“Nah! We’re cool!”

    The woman just smirked, “And yet you complain about him. Just doesn’t add up.”

    Dana huffed, “So dense!”

     She decided to go grocery shopping for breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash-browns were consumed with Russell gorging through most of the seconds. They mostly remained silent except for Russell who was explaining the repairs to his customer. She nodded throughout his ramblings regarding the new doors and essentially the entire hood.

     “When?” She asked.

     “I’ll have it online by sundown,” Russell replied, grinning. “You’ll be cruisin’ before you know it!”

She nodded, “Cool!”

    She left Russell and Dana alone in the dining room, with Dana giving a scowl Russell’s way. She remembered the first time he got a car online. She could barely figure out the controls and driving it was out of the question.

    “Relax, girl,” Russell said. “I’m just doin’ as she says. To the T!”

    “Well, fine,” Dana sighed. “Just don’t screw it up.”

“Definitely don’t wanna! She’s been scaring the crap out of me.”

    Rushing back into the garage, Dana was puzzled by his newfound fears. Who was his customer?