Flash Fiction
Flash Fiction
Flash Fiction
The 21st century literature doesn’t get out-of-style in terms of storytelling. From
longitudinal novels that are impossible to finish in one sitting, a quicker way of
Thomas in 2006 defined Flash Fiction as a form of a narrative story which is typically
under 1,000 words only. It focuses on a quite brief delivery of ideas and events in a small
The mainline of Flash Fiction is to create a powerful story in a clear, concise, and
emphatical manner. It challenges the author to straighten the river flow, and the readers to
Although its counterpart, the short stories, has been famous over the past centuries,
Flash Fiction still got the opportunity to rise in the 21 st era due to the advent of online
In this chapter, the author has originally made two examples of Flash Fiction 21 st
century literary genre. The examples are then divided into two categories, mainly the
Flashy, and the Flashiest. The Flashy piece is entitled, “La Lluvia”, while the Flashiest is
Overall, Flash Fiction is still a developing genre of the 21 st century, in lined with its
precursors namely the Short Stories, Anecdotes, along others. However, the author was
still able to create 2 examples in order to prove that its not about the amount of words that
It was a dark and gloomy week. The cloud threatens the town with thunders and strikes.
However, no rain, no thunder, none at all... can stop Philo’s desire to play. He is such a
Philo craves playing like no one else. In particular, he enjoys playing so much that he
oftentimes gets scolded by his mother for playing all day long. He used to climb uphill,
then slide smoothly down the grassland, riding over a fallen coconut branch.
One day, after finishing his lunch at lightning speed (just like other kids), he decided to
hike uphill and slide. No companion doesn’t bother him, no friends, none at all. For, in
Philo slides up and down according to his own satisfaction. The itch of spiky grass has no
But no matter how alive Philo feels in playing, something is still missing. No matter how
wide his smiles were, tears suddenly dropped from his eyes—and he doesn’t know why.
The clock chimed 5:00 p.m., and church bells started to sway and ring. Still, Philo never
fangs of dismay.
As Philo slid down for the very last time, the surroundings went slow. He looked up at
the depressing sky as it cracked and started to drizzle. The drizzle turned into mist, and
The water washed the hill, covering the land with wetness. Raindrops then flowed over
Just in a matter of seconds, a loud scream was heard. It was Philo’s Mum, marching
fiercely while holding a single strand of broomstick in her right hand. She then went to
“How many times do I have to tell you that you should not play while raining? What
The pain delivers to all parts of Philo’s senses as her mother swats his back. A single
strand of broomstick feels sharper than a whole piece of broom. He totally knew it was
his fault, and (just like other kids), he cried out of guilt.
But no matter how aching the hits were, there was still something that completed him
inside. No matter how loud his groans were, a smile curled his lips—and he can’t explain
why.
Ironic, isn’t it? That in times a boy who’s supposed to feel pain was touched with a
Mum, feeling both pain and happiness as his Mum’s image slowly dissolved out of his
naked eye.
Finally, Philo went back home. Their house doesn’t seem to be normal or happy.
Dim candles light up the area, tables and chairs are arranged in rows, and playing cards
are stacked messily all over the place. There were traces of coffee stains circling the
wooden counters, white chrysanthemums decorated in every corner, and people cries like
It was the poster of “in loving memory” that pointed to the funeral. Philo then tiptoed to
see his Mum inside the coffin, feeling the emotions of an abandoned child.
“Mum, tomorrow, I’ll play in the fields again. Come see me there; punish me for
being naughty if it’s the only way to see you.” - said Philo.
It was still a dark and gloomy week. The cloud continues to threaten the town with
thunder strikes. But now, it is raining – a different kind of rain. Alone. Painful. But so
loving.
Let it
I got a jigsaw puzzle from Shoppe. It was composed of 1,000 broken pieces,
Hence, I decided to never waste my sweat trying to see the unseen and to
seek the unfound. Determined was I, that no missing part shall hinder me
from my undertaking.
Therefore, is the call: "Don't look and you will see; never seek and you shall
find."
Remember, your missing parts doesn't make you any less. Just enjoy the
Darling, I'm not talking about the puzzle - this is about LIFE.
Let it.