Fictional Feast 2018: Specials

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ls a i c e p FLASH FICTION 2018

ROOM F101

THE NUEVA SCHOOL 6 5 6 5 S K Y L I N E B LV D .

HILLSBOROUGH, CA 94010

FLASH FICTION 2018

In the anthology Sudden Fiction, Joyce Carol Oates describes very short fiction as “nearly always experimental, exquisitely calibrated, reminiscent of Frost’s definition of a poem—a structure of words that consumes itself as it unfolds, like ice melting on a stove.”

Over the course of the semester, seventh and eighth grade students in LiAnn Yim’s 2018 Flash Fiction elective read, discussed, wrote, and workshopped a variety of flash fiction—very short stories under 1,000 stories. They experimented with language, brevity, implication.

For their culmination, they presented a fictional feast. As guests—parents, students, teachers—entered the classroom, they were invited to take a seat at a countertop table. Each place setting had a menu of fictional offerings, arranged by word count: amuse-bouche (six word stories, two sentence stories, 25 word stories), appetizers (50-150 word stories), mains (200-500 word stories), and desserts (15-250 word sweet and bittersweet stories).

Guests could order as many stories as they wished to feast on—as well as order stories from the “Specials” menu.

FLASH FICTION 2018

9-1-1 Nora N.

“I have a bad feeling about this party,” she said.

He threw back a cocktail of unknown liquors.

“Don’t worry, what could go wrong?”

FLASH FICTION 2018

COMINGS AND GOINGS Nora N.

The moon illuminates the shore, the ship’s dragon masthead glinting.

The village burns, abandoned.

FLASH FICTION 2018

YOU MADE A MISTAKE THIS TIME Gabe A. You tell them you’re lost, you tell them you’re hungry.

They let you in, because it’s the right thing to do. So you go into their house, you don’t bother to take off your shoes. You said you’re hungry, they give you food. You eat until you’re satisfied.

Now they let you sleep. They lay out a blanket over their sofa, it’s comfortable. Now they’ve gone to sleep.

Now you’re reaching to the crease in your jacket, a hidden pocket. Your knife slips into your hand, its sturdy blade thirsty for more.

But now you made a mistake. We heard the door of our bedroom creak open. That’s why, now you’re on our carpet. Five bullets lodged into your stomach. I watch you gurgle and bleed out. You’re staining blood on my white carpet.

FLASH FICTION 2018

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT Xander Y.

It was a dark and stormy night. The two campers hunched over a smoking fire, crouching underneath a thin, wrinkled tarp. The rain beat the tarp as it fell in sheets from the sky. Small puddles of muddy water formed underneath the traveller’s boots, soaking into their socks. A sudden gust of wind blew the rain under the tarp and onto the fire.

The fire sputtered out with a hiss and a cloud of smoke. They heard something land on the tarp. The pair assumed it was a pinecone. More things landed on the tarp all at once. Probably not pinecones. One of the things fell off the tarp and landed next to one of the people. The cat landed on its feet, looked at them, and ran away.

FLASH FICTION 2018

RULES DON’T MATTER Owen H. In my sixteen years of life, I’ve never broken the rule. Sure, I’ve thought about it sometimes, but I’ve never actually gone through with it. Until tonight.

I slip outside. I look up at the sky, and gasp. There is a sense of mystery about this, that the day doesn’t give. There are so many stars. I never imagined that there would be this many. And the moon. The moon… it’s just, just… I’ve never seen anything like. The moon glows with a gentle, inviting warmth, while the sun burns so harshly that looking at it is unbearable.

It’s so quiet out here, so peaceful. A breeze pushes gently against the landscape, and the plants softly sway with it. I can’t hear a single other person, something that usually only happens when I sleep. Why have I never been out here before—what’s so dangerous about the night anyways? Something so magnificent can’t be dangerous. How could they have lied to me this whole time? Why didn’t they tell me about this? Why, why?

The questions pile up, until I’m talking to myself.

Then I hear a rustling behind me. I snap around, somewhat frightened by the sudden noise.I face the source of the noise, and a something shoots out, skittering across the ground. A squirrel.

I turn back, and my breath catches. I’m face to face with something. Well, not exactly. It doesn’t seem to have a face, just skin. It looks unnatural, broken, disfigured. It looks like a person, but...off.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. When my chin dips to my chest, I see the talon protruding from my ribcage.

The creatures fade away, but I know they’ll be back.

FLASH FICTION 2018

THIRD TIME’S A CHARM Nora N. YOU HAVE ...3... NEW MESSAGES FIRST MESSAGE. THURSDAY NOVEMBER 3, 3:00 P.M. Hey sis, school was fine. They asked for volunteers for the new enhancement experiment. I figured I don’t have much to lose. I wanted to let you put my affairs in order.

E, you can have my computer, the password’s 4523921. Keep it charged at all times, just in case. If something bad happens, access the folder “In Case of Stuff Happening.”

Anyways, tell mom I love her. I’m doing this without her permission, ‘cause I know she’ll never agree—especially after the previous two times. Stay with her, E, she needs you, way more than she needs me. You were always her favorite.

If everything works out, I’ll come back cured. Love ‘ya!

SECOND MESSAGE. SUNDAY NOVEMBER 6, 5:30 P.M. Hi E! I’ve gotten the injection and it seems to be working. I’m fixed again! I will be getting some more injections later, and then I should be coming home. Third time’s a charm, right? See you soon!

THIRD MESSAGE. WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 9, 3:00 A.M. As soon as you get this message, and listen to it, get a new number, and leave home. They fixed me, and then the rest of the injections will put me under their control. I’ve seen it happen. My friend here, Robert, was bad-mouthing the government, then stopped mid-sentence. After that, he told the head scientist what he did and apologized. Who does that! Their mistake was giving intelligence before they can completely take over me. You are the only one who can do something about this. *Where is he?!* They’re coming, they’re coming. Oh god! I have to go! They have the final injection! You have to run E, you hear me, you have to— What am I doing? Why am I holding a phone? Dr. Simmons, what is going on? It’s no one, Zero. Come on, you need to train.

You don’t know it yet, but you are the start of something amazing.

And you, whoever you are, we will find you. Run all you want, but we’ll find you, don’t you worry.

END OF FINAL MESSAGE

FLASH FICTION 2018

OPERATION: ROYAL CATS Isabelle H.

If you tape two cats back to back, you’d best use some strong tape. The contestants’ silky, loose, hair will make the assignment more difficult. In order to complete the project properly, you’ll probably need to tape around the cats’ abdomens. Attach them just tight enough so that they cannot escape, but not overly tightly—you don’t want them to end up asphyxiated. They are the only royal felines, after all.

FLASH FICTION 2018

A GOOD ASSASSIN NEVER PANICS Elle D.

A good assassin never panics. A great assassin never needs to. Yet here I was, sweating bullets underneath my dark tunic, eyes darting this way and that, heart beating as if yearning to leap out of my chest. Truly, it was disgraceful.

But when your life is in someone else’s hands, and those hands holds a razor sharp knife to your throat, the unthinkable does happen.