Friday Fictioneers – Reflections

Another Friday Fictioneers short-short story. Believe me, 100 words is short; I always start out over the limit. This time, though, I trimmed it down to less than a hundred words, and I think it’s a better story as a result.

Don’t forget to go over to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ site, read the stories other people wrote based on this week’s picture, and – if you want to – post one of your own. The more the merrier.

But first, please read my version and let me know what you think of it!

bay-windowsReflections

Didja ever wonder what’s behind windows – you know, inside? I walk down this street pretty near every day, and I wonder. That one up there’s extra hard to figure out, what with the curtains and the reflections.

And it’s probably different now. No telling what’s in there. Not me. And for sure not my clothes, not since she threw them all outa that window. She always was trouble to get along with. Course, she said I was the one who was trouble.

Wait, she did the same thing to you?

And I always thought I was special.

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13 responses to “Friday Fictioneers – Reflections

  1. They say misery loves company, so maybe these two are off for a drink or two together. 🙂

    janet

  2. Looking at those reflections might make someone a little crazy. Very funny.

  3. She’s got bad taste in men?

  4. The dialogue was good although I thought it was self talk until the end. I think he may be becoming a stalker but having found he wasn’t the only one perhaps he’ll move on and find reflections somewhere else. Well done. 🙂

    • I’m glad you like the dialogue. I’ll admit that it’s ambiguous whether he’s talking to himself or someone else (until the end) – 100 words is a challenge! Let’s see, how could I squeeze in a clarification…

      And I’d say that all three characters (including the offstage woman) are too impulsive and self-centered for their own good, so stalking would be very plausible.

  5. I think you did an amazing job. Writing these incredibly short stories is soooo difficult.

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