Flash Fiction

I’m not sure I can record the experience of my course in correct chronological order of events, but do you really want a list of ‘first we did this’ then ‘we did that’ and I wrote this, here you go… ?

 Or splatter this blog with randomness, cherry picking little ditties for your amusement, with no real sense of direction… Which pretty much sums up how my mind works… (Sometimes)… I believe I would drive anyone with OCD insane, my CD’s are muddled up with my DVD’s… My books are shoved any how into spaces they will fit, fiction with non-fiction, novels with scrap books. ‘Wreck this Journal’ along side colouring books, so the last example might make a little sense and although this might sound somewhat messy, I am rather a neat freak.

A neat freak without order… I like to be able to add these little snippets about myself, I suppose there really isn’t any point as this hardly relates to my Creative Writing course, I’m merely expanding my explanation behind putting anything I post in any form of order. When I could have simply said, it’s not happening, nope, no how. No order here, just randomness and bibbling…

  

*Ahem*

Flash Fiction was not something I had come across before and the truth is, I was not impressed with the samples we were given in class. They felt empty, like half thought out scenes in 500 words or less. It was lazy to me, a snapshot into a strangers life a mundane event like a train journey or pet dog. ‘Nothing stories’, I called them, for I felt that there was no point to the tale. Yet who am I to express any formal view? My opinion is my own and I am no professional expert.

However, having the chance to openly discuss this in class lead to some interesting debates amongst us. I miss those conversations now, the ability to freely express ourselves within, what became a close group of friends, with no fear of ridicule and being able to agree to disagree.

Needless to say, we were given the task of producing our own piece of Flash Fiction. I believe I missed the point of capturing a single element told in a few short passages, instead I created a monster and consumed the world… All within 350 words…

Anne Harrison 13.11.15

***

‘A.R. Artificial Reality’ by Anne Harrison.

Somewhere beyond reality and fantasy, there is cyberspace.

On a forgotten page of the internet, a small creature came into being; it was just a few pixels in size living in the corner of the screen. It didn’t do much during those early days, just dotted about the screen sometimes following the tracks of the pages menu bar, dancing along unfinished options, though when it was tired, it would curl up and snooze always in the right hand corner of the screen.

One day, when it awoke and shook off lazy dreams it discovered the page had been visited, curious it darted up the menu, along the side bar to the guest counter. The number had indeed changed by one digit … ‘2’ … And that’s how it escaped from the dormant page, following the cyber tail left by the solitary visitor

It was exposed to the vastness of the internet, which mainly consisted of sharing pictures of cats and expressing thoughts to an unknown audience. A place where trolls lived along side meme’s, a world which developed its own use of language in the form of abbreviations and emoticons replaced facial expressions.

It quickly developed, drinking up facts and fiction alike discovering a rich complex world of hidden secrets and dirty desires, where you can be someone, anyone that you invented. A place where alter egos could replace the mundane and nothing was really what it appeared to be. An obsession to some, a nuisance to others, it had been known to destroy friendships, families or lives.

Social networks were its playground it became greedy, consuming page after page – becoming the internet. Porn and puppies graced the screen alongside each other slipping through some firewall. Soon it started to understand the power it had over mankind, glued to a multitude of devices which people were under the belief that they could not live without, as it consumed their time, their lives.

Finally it consumed the internet, taking on a life of its own. Presiding over its cyber realm, it viewed the sheeple and mused ‘who is your God now?’ 

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