I lock my favourite writers in a room, each one stolen away from whatever they are working on, abducted in my unmarked black van. The room is furnished with simple benches bolted to the floor. A two way mirror like those in cop shows takes up most of one wall through which I can watch.
The dead white males huddle in a corner, muttering and stinking up the place. The poets groom each other, stroking and styling hair, pocketing stray strands that fall from their closest rivals like stolen similes. Novelists talk all at once, upping their bombast each time they are unlucky enough to hear something good coming from someone else. Flash fiction authors begin to speak but trail off just as things get interesting. Everyone regards the lyricists with scorn.
My voice breaks God-like over the tannoy. I tell them the last great idea sits unwritten in the cage just beyond the door. Half a heartbeat, maybe two and I press the release. The door embarks on its ponderous automated swing outward from the room and they surge forward.
12 Responses to Literary Cage Fight – #fridayflash
And mayhem ensues. Bloody, violent mayhem. This was a lot of fun. Good story!
But the Buddhist writer sits in a corner nodding and smiling beatifically while the blood laps at his feet…
Flash fiction authors begin to speak but trail off just as things get interesting.
Great fun, Dan, thanks!
@Eric – Glad you liked it.
@Marc – I like that image. Funny.
@Tony – ‘Flash fiction authors begin to speak but trail off just as things get interesting.’ – Zing, indeed. Hence my last line.
Very cool Dan. I liked this one a lot.
This was very cool. Interesting observations, and it makes me wonder just who will be victorious (bet it’s not those damn lyricists).
Fantastic concept! Brought a smile to my face.
Kari @ The Best Place By The Fire
“Flash fiction authors begin to speak but trail off just as things get interesting…”
Ha-ha. That’s perfect.
Loved this piece, Dan.
Ain’t it the truth.
Thanks for the kind words. Thought this piece might strike a chord with folks.
I love this Dan. It’s just evil enough.
What are the poets going to do with those hairs? No. I don’t want to know. Great stuff.
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