Killer Smile

El Cuatro de Abril

So, happy April everyone!  I’m kinda stoked (yes, I just used the word stoked) for this month, since you know, MY BIRTHDAY IS TWO WEEKS AWAY!!!  I promise I won’t go on and on about how excited I am to turn sixteen . . . but I am VERY excited.

In other news, I’ve recently been elected as AV chick for my school’s fencing team so I could get an A in health (pathetic, I know).  My friend is on the team, which is why I do it, so it should be fun.  Basically I film the matches so that the players can review their strategies later.

Grades are coming up, and I’m not exactly worried.  I know I have an A in all of my subjects except for Science, which I should be getting an A in, but nothing is promised.  Speaking of school–they’ve put our course list up online, which I got really excited about.  I’m pretty much 100% sure that I want to take advanced film, even though I’m not doing film this summer.  I’m being pressured into taking AP Spanish (I’ve fulfilled my language requirement for graduation, but heck, APs look really good for college), and am kinda interested in AP Chem instead of taking a science elective.  I’m getting an A- in both classes as it is, so I know that if I went into AP I’d almost certainly get a B, but I still think that the classes would be interesting and exciting, and look really good on my transcript, which is very important.

So enough talk about grades.  I don’t have anything interesting to share at the moment, since I haven’t heard any debatable subjects of conversation recently.  This weekend should be fun, I don’t have that many plans but my cousins are in town and I haven’t seen them in a while so that will be great.  I’m still dragging through Pride and Prejudice, and it’s not that it doesn’t interest me, I really like it, but it’s a difficult read that I don’t often have time for, and I can’t read lots of it at once because it makes my head spin.  My English teacher did lend me this really cool book of stuff called “Flash Fiction” today; really really REALLY short stories.  Under 1,000 words.  Kinda like this:


“Fuck, he’s late. I knew it. Maybe he won’t even show.” Kady had always been the more irrational of the two. From her fears to her goals, nothing ever seemed possible to anyone else but her. She wasn’t ever sure and was rarely ever content, and that state of mind seemed to suit her just fine. Forever in a rush, she never felt the need to please anyone but herself and her oversensitive nerves. Quick to assume, she was hardly ever able to please.

“That’s just his way, he’ll be here.” Logan was the opposite. Although she was younger by a few years, she was more patient and accepting, very chill and rational. This she probably got from years living with her father, who was an altogether crazy man with odd dreams and even odder work hours, but was a man who nonetheless stayed true to his word, eventually. She was very black-or-white, either it is or it isn’t, and once she chose one side over the other, she stuck with it. Some looked at this unfaltering faith as an advantage, while others couldn’t see the benefits.

“He said he’d be here when we got off, and look! It’s ten after and he still hasn’t shown. He’s never coming.” Kady was impatient. It was her first time flying alone, and she was much more nervous than she would ever care to admit. She didn’t know her father well, except that he was an untrustworthy fool, and that her mother hated him. The one thing Kady constantly shared with her sister was that she was constant in her beliefs, and wasn’t quick to lift a grudge or change expectations. It was for her that the phrase, “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover,” had been created.

“He’s five minutes late. He’s always five minutes late. You’ll need to get used to it.” Logan was used to it. She’d spent the first ten years in his care, and at least a third of that had been spent waiting for him to show up. He hadn’t managed to be more than a half hour late, and even that was just once, and had long been forgiven. Living with her mother was something new, and not particularly enjoyed. Though it had already been three years, Logan wasn’t quite used to the routine or getting picked up on time. She wasn’t sure if she liked the timeliness of it all, but she could live with it. It would’ve probably explained why she wasn’t reading her books nearly as fast.

“Well if he’s always going to be five minutes late, then we should’ve told him to be here five minutes early. Then we wouldn’t be waiting here! We haven’t even been able to get our luggage yet.” Kady also hated being under authority she didn’t know, and as they were unaccompanied minors officially, they were under an entire unfamiliar airline of authority. She figured it had been alright at first, but waiting under the keen eye of a frustrated flight attendant had gotten old fast. She should’ve bought a new Su Doku book before getting on the plane—she’d finished the last few advanced puzzles on the plane after watching Shakespeare in Love on the DVD player. Come to think of it, she probably should’ve brought more movies, too. For all they knew, he wouldn’t be showing up for another two hours, and she’d really wanted to see Ferris Buller’s Day Off.

“First off, that never works. I’ve tried. We called, he said he’s on his way. He’s in the car. He’ll be here in five minutes, ten tops. Promise. Would I lie to you?” Logan knew she probably shouldn’t be asking that question. Kady had no reason to trust her, since they’d only been in the same place for three years. Their parent’s long awaited separation and hasty divorce after Logan’s birth had separated them by three thousand long miles.


Except technically that’s not long enough.  The book defines “Flash Fiction” as being anything between 750 and 1000 words, and that’s only about 650 or 675.  And it’s not really done, it’s supposed to be a lot longer, although thinking about it now, it might make more sense as “Sudden Fiction”, which is 1000 to 2000 words.  Before reading any of the stories, I wondered how it was possible to get any message through to a reader in two or three teeny pages.  Then I read some.  I think Flash Fiction is my calling: it’s little drabbles that don’t really have much meaning unless you look into it; they’re a fraction of someone’s life, written out, and you know that there’s something before it and something after it and sometimes you imagine what that might be, and sometimes it’s just not necessary.  My computer is filled with little beginnings of what could be very good Flash/Sudden fiction, at least I think anyway.  I’m completely excited to be reading more of this stuff, it sounds SO interesting.  Anyway, better go.  I’ve got a living room to clean up.



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