Blog Entry Week 10 - Flashing Fiction~

 

🌈 Blog Entry Week 10 🌠

    Ever wondered about what Flash Fiction is all about? Sure, you could search it up, but in my experience, it is about observing a picture/setting and letting your mind flow free and just writing. You could help guide yourself with some words you’d like to use in the process of creating flash fiction. In these flash fiction pieces that I’ve composed, I looked at a picture for each of them, and I just let my mind roam free. I hope that you’ll see what I mean~

 

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Dreaming of Venice
by Joshua Vincent Vega


The water beneath me pools down into depths unreachable and unimaginable. The sky above is cloudy but also young, wild and free; how spacious. Seagulls and other birds make their presence known by their constant gawking and chirping; how quaint but yet disturbing. I think to myself, “oh how this
juxtaposes with life.” Every now and then I see and hear bubbles that form on the water’s surface. I could touch them and pop them with my fingers, or I could even strip and jump out of the single boat I’m in, but no, this is not the right time to be goofy. It is a beautiful morning with the sun’s rays filtering through the clouds and buildings alike, reminding me of that infamous scene from Lion King when Simba is glorified as a cub. So many different colors are spread out all over me, they expand and contract, flirting and playing with one another. It seems that the gondola I’m in won’t stop, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m not here to escape life, worries or work, in fact I don’t know why I took a sabbatical, but then again, why does there need to be a reason for anything? My life is empty, blank, and especially tasteless, like this iced coffee in my hand. Perhaps the ice has diluted the taste, like a lot of things in my life, just diluted. I shake my head in response to my inner monologue and gaze
onwards. I take a deep breath, and as I exhale, I know exactly where I am. I am dreaming of Venice.


 

 

Back to the Cutting Board
by Joshua Vincent Vega


Objects scattered about on a table, like always, and as such resemble people, always everywhere at once but nowhere at the same time. I chose the background and the items, to expand on the colors of the ‘objects’ one may see here. What do you see?


Sure, as a general consensus many would say they see a juicy orange over here, a mini pumpkin over there, pieces of broken cinnamon all over place, chocolate wrapped in gold foil, and well, it’s just a mess, but a beautiful mess. A mess that people with an appreciation for photography would adore.
What these people wouldn’t know is the amount of time and energy consumed to produce this masterpiece. Mind you, I could have captured this from any perspective; the front or even the
back to capture the curves and edges of the broken spices, slices of fruits and half broken chocolate. No, that would be too typical, and why not capture the photo from the very top? Looking down, beneath the camera, with everything looking flat if it were not for the lighting that filters and segregates these objects. I find this whole set amusing as these objects actually do represent people; some are broken, some are whole, some have more capital, some are trapped within, some are scattered to fit the roles of society. Then you have me, the one who looks down upon them all from above, my very own
pedestal, for I refuse to conform to societal roles, even though I do to a certain extent. The contrast of the orange hues and the smooth dark grey surface percolate everything, exposing all their flaws and misdeeds, the loudness within but the screaming silence beyond.

Do you see it as a beautiful mess too?

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     The first time I ever wrote a flash fiction piece, I had to take a moment and stare at what I’ve created. I was so used to writing rigid English essays for assignments and projects, that always had a word limitation and a specific format to follow along. However, with pieces that I create, I get to decide how it forms, or sometimes, it forms without me realising it. The power of the pen is to not take control of it, but to let it guide you. I hope you loved my flash fiction pieces

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