Well, here we are at week 6 in our series, Building A Short Story , and we are saying good-bye to flash fiction; never to bring this story back to its micro-fiction roots of the 55 word fiction tale it started out as.
A quick recap: we, Carrie and myself, wanted to get the creative juices flowing and write a short story, and I saw an opportunity to introduce a great concept in building a short fiction tale from the foundation of a flash piece.
We started this project with The Heart of the Hound being a stand alone micro-fiction piece and have been rewriting it each week by doubling the word count. Because Carrie doesn’t write much flash (1000 words 0r less), and I rarely write short stories (1001 to 7000 words), the project has been the perfect blend for us to write together.
Last week we were at 880 words, the last stop on the flash fiction line. This week we have moved deep into the realm of short story land as we both added to the rewrite with a nearly seamless voice.
The Heart of the Hound
I was doing what I had been doing every night for the previous year when that call came in from the dispatcher; trying to choke back love by assaulting it with large doses of bourbon.
No matter how hard I tried to fight it off, love came at me with tear fueled memories that left gaping holes in my heart. Love tread on my soul with its horrific war hammer of depression. My essence screamed her name, but there was no answer.
Not since that fateful night, the year before, when my Shawna was ripped away from me by three .38 rounds while she was on her way to pick me up from the station. Damn that old truck, damn that carjacking asshole.
I swore I would never love again, yet every moment I live is torn by love.
The house was dark and cold. The phone rang and I choked back tears as I fumbled for the receiver, nearly dropping it.
Joanne was the dispatcher on duty that night and she had been with the department for as long as Denny and I had been friends. She loved us as family, often reminding one of an important calendar date for the other. She knew exactly how men were.
Joanne called me to let me know that something terribly wrong had happened at Denny’s and I needed to sober up and get there immediately.
Joanne knew too much about me.
Stumbling to the bathroom to wipe away love’s abuse, I looked into the mirror and noticed that what were once graying temples had spread their influence all through my hair.
No time to lament on youth, Denny was in trouble.
It is funny how an emergency can hold back the power of bourbon. Once in the city issue car and on the streets, I felt sober and my tactical thinking mind was coming into play. First I needed to go inside the scene and talk to Denny. Joanne did say that Denny was alive and, although Nora would be taken to the hospital, she would be fine. Joanne also said there was a death at the scene.
This could only mean one thing. Somehow, Nora’s life had been threatened and Denny took care of it. The love between Nora and Denny was legendary. Almost as legendary as mine and Shawna’s.
The drive took less than five minutes over the quiet streets, and I could see the aura of emergency vehicle lights well before I arrived. Pulling up to the scene, I popped two breath mints and got out.
Time to put on my work mask and suppress my own problems.
© 2010, Alex Crabtree. All rights reserved.
- The Micro-Fiction Cornerstone
- From 55 Words To 110, Our Fiction Sees Growth
- Building A Short Story ~ Jumping to 220
- Building A Short Story ~ Carrie Takes It To 440
- Building A Short Story ~ The 880 is on schedule
- Building A Short Story ~ Stepping Into a New Realm
- Building A Short Story ~ The Deep End
- Building A Short Story ~ The End
Building A Short Story ~ Stepping Into a New Realm http://goo.gl/fb/9o5yq #buildingashortstory #featured #series
More please!! You two are crafting a heck of tale here!!!
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