MISCELLANY: CERTAIN FLASH FICTION
AMUSING MUSINGS:
Micro Tale #397: "MISCELLANY" by Leon Enriquez
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Story #22:
"CERTAIN FLASH FICTION"
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Writes in a flash. No hidden agendas. Dash of crisp words. No passengers here. Brisk strokes in clear tell. Words on a tight budget. Finesse gets straight to the point. No space for tiresome details. Not much more than enough. Certainty is a minimalist construct. Certain flash fiction transcends. Strict economy alludes.
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Mystery consigns briefly. Opposites seem to attract. Happy conversations conspire. Wit hurls touch point moments. Time intervenes. Fate in emergent distance. Warm evening beach stroll. Destiny weaves escapade. Even now, a bright rainbow serenade. Sensuous interlude fascinates. Moonlight caprice. Lovely explorations. Skin on skin articulates. Spacious expectations. Wholesome becoming.
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Twenty-nine years later. Familiar movement. Certain possessions. Mundane family routines attend. Life blossoms. Happy conversations. Stress and strain undress. Fate and destiny decorate. Feel the sanguine ambience. Can happy ever feel content? Joy in simply being. Funny you should ask.
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Writer and author in-transit. Bookstore display and autograph sessions. Global publicity trips. Bestseller listings. Overnight sensation. Rich and famous now. No time for down-to-earth company. No one hears your sobering chit-chat.
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Success brings a swift highlight briefly. Then a very very low plunge. No one heeds your feelings. You are truly lost in the crowd. Loneliness and isolation catapult. Everyone knows you. But, do they really?
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Yet, in any crowd you feel ever more lonely. No one hears the real you anymore. Sad and tragic but true. You are a stranger to people. Because they think they know you well. Do they? Arrival feels sadly empty. Even strange and odd. Famously strange. Depression meets despair on the high stairs. Loneliness escalates. Inner upheavals preside.
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Moments ooze so very slowly. Nightmares linger like Elm Street moments. Abrupt awakening elopes. Day dreams crash dramatic. Curse of the vivid touch of imagination. Too much substance-induced sensations. Reality stings surely. You waltz slowly on the far side of depression. Implosion of mortal combustion. Despair demonstrates harshly. Gone too soon. No suicide note. No one comes. Sad story finale. Now truly famous.
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(RIP Robin Williams, Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain.)
(25 July 2018)
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