An Indie Author friend set a challenge recently to write a piece of Flash Fiction in 200 words. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Barnaby duly wrote a piece in 200 words, but this set him thinking. Would it have been as good, or better even, in any other length?
Here then is the 200 word version of his story, plus a 100 word version, a 140 character (tweet length) version and a headline version (5 words). Each tells essentially the same tale, but something is added (or is it?) as the length increases. Barnaby is currently considering expanding this story to something between 3,000 and 4,000 words, but will that add anything significant to what's already been said? You can judge. Here are the first 4 versions.
Headline (5 words)
Marketplace
bomb kills Afghan girl.
Tweet (140 characters including
spaces)
Suicide
truck bomb in huge marketplace blast at Afghan army checkpoint kills two
soldiers and local girl, who was shopping for pomegranates.
100 word story (excluding title)
Collateral Damage
Farrukh adjusted
her niqab, re-examined her shopping list and studied the fruit, while the
stallholder halfheartedly dusted the pomegranates. Her mother would be cross if
she bought poor quality or paid too much.
Neither of them
noticed the approaching truck.
Two soldiers,
rifles slung nonchalantly, leaned against the wall.
There was gunfire
and the cry "Allahu akbar" as the truck
slammed into them, before the world exploded.
Farrukh's eyes flickered open as
she lay on the ground, revealing a severed arm lying amongst the smoking
debris, still clutching a shopping list.
She felt no pain as her world went
black.
200 word
story (excluding title)
Collateral Damage
Farrukh adjusted
her niqab and studied the indifferent fruit piled on the market stall in front
of her. The fat stallholder halfheartedly flicked dust off the pomegranates and
oranges and wiped his hands on his grubby, grey kameez. She glanced at the
heavily creased shopping list in her hand. Her mother would be cross if she
bought poor quality, or paid too much.
Neither of them
noticed the dust cloud from the approaching truck.
Two soldiers
leaned on the wall next to the fruit stall, smoking and laughing loudly, rifles
slung nonchalantly across their shoulders.
"Are you
buying, or just looking?"
She bowed her
head with embarrassment at the stallholder's brusque interrogation.
There was a loud
squeal of tyres, a burst of gunfire and the cry of "Allahu akbar" as the truck slammed the soldiers into the wall
before the world around her exploded with sound and light.
Farrukh's eyes flickered open
momentarily as she lay on the ground, a spreading pool of blood surrounding her
head. She saw in the distance, lying amongst the smoking debris and other
scattered body parts, a severed arm, still clutching a shopping list. She felt
no pain as her world went irreversibly black.
Barnaby Wilde (Sept 2013)
You can find more Barnaby Wilde in a mixture of genres and lengths at www.barnaby-wilde.co.uk including FREE downloads of several of his e-books.