Category Archives: Flash Nonfiction

Flash fiction based on true stories.

Homework Date (flash nonfiction)

He sat across the couch from her, Broken Social Scene’s Feel Good Lost album playing quietly in the background, as she typed away on her computer, and whenever the clicking paused he knew she was taking a moment to look at him.  He knew, but didn’t try to catch her; he didn’t want to.  He wondered if she noticed that every time she looked over he was smiling a little.  And then he wondered if she knew it was because he knew.

She caught him peeking at her, only once.

“Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Distracting you.”

“You aren’t,” she said with her trademark big smile he was quickly falling for.

She reached out and took his hand and returned to her work, typing one-handed.  He didn’t even try writing a story, and not just because she took one of his hands hostage.

“Am I keeping you from writing?”

“Nope,” he said, trying to be coy.  He played around online for a bit with his right hand, and eventually gave up.  She kept typing, but her mind wasn’t really on the task at hand either.  It wasn’t long before she closed her laptop.

“Are you done?”

“Nope.”

“I promised you that if we had a homework date we would actually finish stuff.”

She smiled again, and he knew he would be losing this one.  He closed his laptop and put it on the other couch as she scooched closer.  She started messing with his hair a little, and so he poked her in the ribs, trying to find a ticklish spot.  It didn’t take long.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” he said with a devilish smile.  He could see he’d figured it out…he’d been trying to tickle her feet earlier, with no success.

“Come here.”

They kissed, and he stopped her after a bit.  “Do some work.  I don’t want you to refuse other homework dates because we don’t focus.”

She smiled and started some paperwork, and he listened to her scribbling as he wrote a story.  When the scribbling stopped he knew she was trying to read the story he was currently typing on his Mac.  He looked up and caught her looking.

“What?”

“Don’t read it as I type!” he said, trying to cover the screen with his hand.

“Can I read it when you’re done?”

“Maybe…we’ll see.”

“Is it about me?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Well..if it is about me, doesn’t that make it my business?”

He thought about it for a moment.  “Nope.  And don’t worry, it’s not about you.”

She frowned and returned to her paperwork, and he finished the story about their homework date.

And Adore Her He Did (flash nonfiction)

Based on a true story.

The date had been great so far, and he was nervous when he suggested they head to his place to listen to records, but he knew his intentions were fairly innocent.  She accepted following some hesitation, and after a quick tour of the downstairs they sat on opposite sides of his plaid couch, chatting as the album Colours by Claudine Longet played.

They talked about all kinds of things people talk about when getting to know one another, and as the conversation continued, the record ended and he flipped it and returned to her.

It wasn’t until he’d switched to Donovan’s Greatest Hits, a few albums later, that he noticed that every time he got up to switch the record, she nonchalantly inched a bit closer to his side.  Once he realized this, his heart sped up a bit, but  started returning to the couch a bit closer as well, until their knees were touching during “God Help the Girl” by Stuart Murdoch.

It wasn’t until Astrud Gilberto’s “The Shadow of Your Smile” that her finger poked his hand playfully, and he opened it, inviting hers in.  She smiled, looked at him with her big, greenish-brown eyes, and their fingers intertwined as she rested her head onto his shoulder.

They talked about music, life, everything, as the needle played beautiful music into the air, and she pushed into him a little more, making the butterflies explode in his chest.  He put his arm around her and held her a little tighter as they discussed exes, quirks and other oddities that naturally came up in conversation.

The record stopped, and he didn’t want to get up this time.  He enjoyed having this girl in his arms, and she squeezed him, subtly telling him not to get up, but he wanted to put on one more record.  She’d mentioned a certain someone she liked, and so he felt it was his obligation to play it for her, to show her that he not only listened to what she said, but that he valued it.

“I really don’t want to get up, but we need more music,” he said as she gave him a sad look but released him from her hold.  He walked over to the shelf and searched for the one he was looking for, found it, and before she knew it the needle was lowering onto the vinyl and he was returning to his original position on the couch.

The song “Come Dance With Me” started and she smiled, recognizing his attempt to impress her by playing The Best of Frank Sinatra, and she held him a little tighter.  He felt that enlightened feeling boys get sometimes when they know they impressed a girl they like, and they talked and cuddled a bit more as the needle slowly made its way across the record to the last song, “Put Your Dreams Away,” at which point he made to get up, she sat up, and he kissed her.  Their first kiss, as the lyrics played, “Let your kiss confess this happiness, darling, and put all your dreams away.”

“Good timing,” she said.  He didn’t mention it was purely chance.  He didn’t even know the lyrics to the song, and listened.  “When your dreams at night fade before you, then I’ll have the right to adore you.”

And adore her he did.