Death, Sexuality and the Flash Fiction Writer

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“You know I don’t like your name.”

“Mr. Hogan, you said I could name myself.”

“It’s what I get for letting a character pick his own name.  Let’s get on with it.”

“All right, Mr. Hogan.  Our readers would like to know where you get your flash fiction ideas from.”

“A lot of places but let’s narrow it down to this apartment building I live in in Pittsburgh.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve lived here over ten years and many things have happened since I’ve been here.  I’ll touch on three.  I live on the second floor.  The building only has four floors.  A couple of years ago one of the residents was killed.  She lived on the fourth floor.”

“She was killed?”

“Yes, killed.  Some nut knocked on her door and when she opened it he stabbed her to death with a pair of scissors.  I’m not making this up.”

“Good Lord.”

“I’d taken some medication to get to sleep and slept right through the whole thing.  Then there was the time a friend agreed to pose nude for me.  I’m an amateur photographer and she had always wanted to do it.  She trusted me and we did the shoot right in this apartment with the camera, lighting and props.  It took all of my self control to keep from making a pass at her.  Looking back on it I think she might have been open to a sexual advance from me.”

“Do you still see her?”

“Oh, sure.  But she has a boyfriend now.”

“And the third thing?”

“Yesterday, I got up and there were water stains on my ceiling in the living room.  I reported it to the super.  So, now you know where I get some of my ideas from.  The important thing for our readers is that where I get my ideas for writing flash fiction is the same place they can get their ideas for flash fiction or for any length of fiction they want to write.”

“I’m Hallelujah, reporting from Pittsburgh”