So I created a new ficlet this morning, called “Jenny, who is a dog”. For those of you that haven’t run across Ficlets, here’s the idea: You go to the Ficlets website, sign up or sign in, and then you can create a “ficlet”. A ficlet is a short-short story, or more accurately a part of a story. You have an upper bound of 1024 characters* to tell your story. Anyone can add onto it by creating sequels or prequels. Every story on the site is licensed using a Creative Commons Attribution-Sharealike license.
So here’s my latest snippet of fiction:
Jenny, who is a dog, came into the living room, sat down on the floor, and spoke. “What supper?” she said, tail thumping on the hardwood.
I stared at her. “Beg pardon?” I was shocked enough that I actually responded. To a dog. You see the state of mind I was in?
“Supper. Food. What?”
“Uh–” I’d been making my own dog food, these days. Jenny was old, and store-brand food wasn’t doing her any favours. “Liver and rice, for you,” I said. “I think pizza for me.”
“Good. Liver good,” she said, and trotted off to the dining room.
I went into the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. As I twisted the cap off, my phone rang.
“Y’ello?”
“Doug?” It was Lisa, my girlfriend. “Uh, Doug, I didn’t know who to call–”
“Calm down,” I said. “Deep breaths. What’s up?”
“Mr. Kit,” she said. “He’s–” She couldn’t go on.
“He’s talking?” I said, and there was silence on the line. I knew I was right. Mr. Kit, who is a cat, was talking too.
Jenny came into the kitchen and sat on the floor. “Jenny good dog,” she said.
And all day it kind of festered in my head. I kept thinking, what’s next? Where do we go from talking pets?
So I’ve decided to expand it into a short story (something more like 2,000 or 3,000 words, I’m thinking). Interested? Let me know in the comments, and when it’s complete, I’ll email you a link to read the whole thing.
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* Which works out to about 200 words.