Del scratched his head. He'd never heard of 'flash fiction' before, was keen to join in, but what exactly WAS it? A type of story about night-time photography? A type of story for perverts? A type of story about lighthouses? None of these offered much scope for inspiration.
All he needed was a hundred words, no more.
Suddenly, it came to him: the instructions contained a typo which would have been spotted if they’d been properly proofread. It should read “flash FRICTION”.
Shaking his head, he drew a match from a box in his pocket and struck it. Job done.
All he needed was a hundred words, no more.
Suddenly, it came to him: the instructions contained a typo which would have been spotted if they’d been properly proofread. It should read “flash FRICTION”.
Shaking his head, he drew a match from a box in his pocket and struck it. Job done.
