The Doorway

Today’s blog comes to me from the pages of another writer and his blog. I follow Les Floyd daily and on twitter he reposted a previous blog about Flash Fiction. I read his posting and enjoyed all of his stories. This man is really an amazing writer and I think his blog is one of the most brilliant on the Internet. I love a writer with depth, variety, whimsy as well as seriousness when needed. There are just too many blogs today that are predictable, but this is not the case with Les Floyd. There is always something different and usually thought-provoking and upbeat with his writing. Something I aspire to achieve at some point with my writing.

Back to Flash Fiction. I had not thought of that writing form in many years … 10 at the most. It was something we used in the afternoon of our Writing Institutes to either get juices flowing or work on particular writing elements. We used James Thomas’ 1992 anthology titled Flash Fiction: Seventy-Two Very Short Stories. These stories ranged from 300 to 1000 words and typically fit on two facing pages of a standard sized paper back book.

Early in my Writing Practice challenge, I had a topic that I wanted to develop deeper, maybe a short story, but did not know if I had even enough of a tidbit for a short story. I did get a piece of micropoetry that worked very nicely with the topic, but the writing still nagged at me for more. After reading the flash fiction pieces today from Les, I decided it was time for me try my hand at that writing style and the piece that just would not let me go would work perfectly. The original Writing Practice was from January 3rd and the topic: You’re standing in a doorway. Below is my “flash fiction” from this writing practice.

The Doorway

We woke to snow that morning. Always a delight and wonder for this Texas girl who rarely saw the white stuff, but this was real snow, covering the ground like a blanket snow. Today would be a lazy day, vacation time with no rules and no agendas.

After breakfast you settled into your favorite chair to read. I decided a walk in that beautiful snow was what I needed most.

Returning quietly after about thirty-minutes, you are still reading. Your hand reaches for the coffee cup. Realizing it is empty, you gently return it to the table by your chair.

New coffee made, I tip toe quietly to where you sit. Standing just outside the room, I watch silently from the doorway where I can see the changes on your face as you read. The scars from Viet Nam soften and disappear under the childlike expression you have when reading. Something must be funny because your eyes crinkle at the corners and a slight smile plays on your lips.

As is the norm, we are reading the same book. Savoring our time at the end of the day to talk about what we read. We have a – NO SPOILERS – rule and always begin our book talk with how far we read that day before starting the discussion.

Suddenly, you look up, put down your book, rearrange the lap robe and beckon me. The new cup goes on the table beside the old.

Without a word, you gently gather me in your arms, settle me on your lap, tuck my head under your chin and cover me with the robe.

“I’ve been missing you, Kid” you say as always when we have been apart even for a short time. “I just finished reading page 95.”


I hope you enjoy my little attempt with flash fiction. As with all fiction, there is a kernel of truth to this story when my life was lived on a plane between Texas and Ohio.

Musical Muse for today’s writing has been the New Moon Score by Alexandre Desplat.

Below is the micropoetry from that original Writing Practice:

Your voice is like woodsmoke on water~rising and falling on the mist~showing emotion with your words.

As always, I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you LOVE.

As Ever, Annie

First Published 1/14/2013



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