It’s Flash Fiction Friday #2 and already I’ve run into a wall of writer’s block. Sure, I’ve written a few new pieces since last week, but none of them quite feel ready for posting, and after a couple rainy days, I just don’t have the inspiration on my own to move forward.
One year ago I woke up pressed between the warm bodies of two men I didn’t know. Cane mumbled something to Jay, asking if he was working the ten or one o’clock shift today. I don’t remember what time it was, but he checked the clock and muttered something angry about needing to wake up.
Cane got out of bed and went in the bathroom to shower. Jay walked their dog. I hadn’t even realized they had a dog. The room was bright now, but all I really saw were my pants and shirt on the floor. I dressed in vague motions that felt like the fabric of dreams. I latched my belt, listened to the falling water from the bathroom, and sat on the floor.
Read the fine print! Don’t sweat the small stuff! Contradictions abound–and there’s no shortage of such when it comes to defining the perfect balance of details in writing, and whether or not those details matter. (After all, if we don’t sweat the small stuff, we won’t read the fine print, will we?)
This chapter that we’re working on is all about crafting exact scenes using concrete and sensory details. What does it matter? Why should I bother? If it isn’t obvious, then read on. You’ll be sure to be surprised.