Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m currently writing for a competition. Flash fiction! It’s all the rage at the moment. Essentially, it means simply writing to a (sometimes ludicrously-)low word count. This piece currently stands at 677 words, which means the next draft will have to cut a minimum of seventy-seven words. I am only allowed to reproduce a small section, but I gladly do so for my loyal readers.
A closing section of ‘An Ugly Harvest‘:
Bills news feed auto-scrolled into infinity as his friends and colleagues lived their lives, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to close the tab. As far back as ninth grade, he had known his place. He had never been one to say no. He had sown the seeds of his life, and now they were grown, and the fruit was this pizza, on this night, that passed his lips and clogged his arteries, but had no taste.