I was scrolling through my old files when I came across about copies of 3 variations of the same flash fiction idea. They’re pretty (see: very, very) bad and clearly I never ending up developing or editing them further than just what I wrote down, but I thought it was interesting reading back through them
“Fuck.” She glanced towards the window across the room. It was a large glass one, light seeping into the café and making its patrons glow yellow among the sunset. She also appreciated the ambience here, being a quiet break from the bustling city outside. She propped her arm up on the table, head resting in
She waited by the side of the road. Umbrella in hand, water dripping all around her feet. The New York lights were blurred by the storm, almost like some sort of post-apocalyptic world. Maybe she could pretend that she was in Tokyo. A cab came by. Those yellow cars still running late into the Tuesday
He hated doing all the grunt work. He slouched down onto the large wooden create, his heavy frame causing it to creak. This was boring. All he had to do was guard a stock exchange. Takumi glanced down at his arm. His full-body gear was covering all the tattoos. He was decorated like everyone else
I haven’t written anything in forever. So sorry that this is Not That Great™. Jaxon had disappeared into the kitchen to mourn the death of his dishwasher. It’d been a good dishwasher too. Served its purpose. Lived a long life. All that crap. I hoped that he’d get a new one quickly though, unless he
I don’t even really know what this is. I wrote parts of it for a creative writing piece last semester and the story line is pretty silly and the characterisation sort of stuff isn’t the best, but it gave me happy vibes to write/edit so I’m sticking with it. It was fun. If there was
