SSM: “Briefly Concerning Flash Fiction” by Sean Lovelace

27 May

fiction that discusses, describes, or analyzes a work of fiction or the conventions of fiction.


Ever to confess you are tired means you have no inner resources. I am heavy tired.

I feel bad for the rest of the month. I feel bad for this story for how good it is, yet how tired I feel to write a good and worthwhile response to it. I will let Sean’s words do their own thing. It is a small, good thing.

The sky that day resembled the cotton from an asthma inhaler, and the winds sewed, weaved, and knitted the sand into one enormous Jupiter-ass sirocco, but most of this irrelevant, unless you just like weather. These days it seems everyone is into the weather. Probably something to do with control, mortality, or the absolute unpredictability of a tornado, of illness, a relationship, you know, like maybe your girlfriend an hour late, another hour (no phone call, no text), another, then gone.


Oh, but I remember the Tuesday she told me, “You know what? The energy of this relationship is all wrong. It’s like your standard incandescent light bulb.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked her.


And I’d like to say, right here and now, there’s not a damn thing wrong with a standard incandescent light bulb, or its energy distribution (90% heat, 10% light). We glow how we can, Sara.

Read the full story at Flash Fiction.

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