Every now and then I enter the flash fiction competition at the literary agent Janet Reid's blog and the other week I tried her 'A Lot of Books Contest'. Normally I don't get very far and again in this competition I didn't make the long list. However, she did pay me the nicest compliments ever for one of my pieces of flash:
This might just be the creepiest entry ever. In fact, I may never recover. (in other words, damn good writing)
That comment is something I will treasure!
Below is the story that prompted her comment, words in bold within the text were required elements.
His reflexes had slowed, every impulse succumbing to the cold. Slaughtered carcasses kept him company, blood congealing on bone.
“You’ll go to Hell in a handcart,” his mum had said.
It had taken her 100 minutes to die; he’d counted every one. The police thought she’d slipped on the stairs. How long would he take?
Beaten and imprisoned all for a stupid debt.
“And she was right you know,” said a voice, “although the Devil’s discarded the handcart, preferring something a bit more … compact.”
Luke stared at the ice box. Behind him an electric saw whirred into life.
A writer - I think that says it all.