Fiction in Just a Few Lines

Extremely short and sometimes humorous flash fiction

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Slender, affectionate and adventurous black female needs attention. Warm arms to shelter me and gentle hands to caress me. Gender unimportant. Will graciously receive you at the King Street Humane Society.

Busy Hands

Still warm and slightly damp from breakfast dishes, slender dexterous fingers flowed in waves over the keyboard. Warming up with scales and arpeggios, moving from adagio to allegro, from dolce to forte. Switching from minuets to canons to requiems. No one heard in the dark silent loft.

She played from memory. The power was out.

Jenny’s Portrait

Stretching on tiptoe on the chair with her left hand on the cabinet for support, Jenny’s right hand gripping the fuscia oil pastel swept across the wall, overlaying and intersecting the lime, cobalt, and violet shapes.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Drawing God.”

“Hope He likes it.”

“How come?”

“You’ll need His help when Mom sees this!”

Kirby

Kirby the kitten was named after my vacuum cleaner. The day I got her, she attacked it with ferocity. She clawed it and chewed it. Till I turned it on. Then she fled. It took hours before she came out from under the couch. Ten years later she still gives her namesake considerable respect.

When metal Kirby speaks, furry Kirby flees. They meet once a week — or less often — depending on my discipline.