Four By Flash Piece 4: Fiona

As I mentioned in this blog entry, I entered a Flash Fiction challenge despite a) Not having written Flash Fiction before, b) not really having time to enter such challenges and c) not actually knowing what Flash Fiction was. We’re now well into the first month of the challenge, and at a four piece per week rate, I should be posting the 11th or 12th piece by now,but reality intruded. Here’s my fourth piece. This one clocks in at 368 words, which barely fits in my stated goal of “300 – 500 words, hopefully closer to the 300 end.” So read it, and leave my some criticisms and comments so I can do better with the next few pieces.



Eric checked his watch. He felt a bit ridiculous in doing so. He waited under the train station clock, with a fresh cut tulip in his lapel as instructed. How had he let Andrew talk him into this? Well, Andrew and half a bottle of fine tequila had done the persuasion, but Eric had to admit that he did like the idea of a blind date. After all, it had been almost two years since he and Amanda broke up, and that was long enough to go dateless.

A short brunette woman walked behind Eric and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you Fiona?” Eric asked.

“Are you Eric?” she said.

“I am.”

“Then come with me, I know the perfect spot.”

She took Eric by the hand and led him to a small coffee shop called Nude Espresso.

“I just love the name of this place,” she said.

“I like the way it smells,” Eric said, “I guess they must roast their own beans.”


The two of them took a corner booth as the strains of an Iron & Wine song played softly in the background.

“Nice place they have here. I like the ambience,” Eric said. She must be able to tell how nervous I am by the way I’m babbling, he thought. “So, what are you having?”

“Oh, a real gentleman,” she grinned, “I like that. I’ll have a toffee latte and a chicken pesto wrap, thanks.”

A few minutes later, Eric returned with her order as well as an espresso and Panini of his own.

“I never know how to start these things off,” he said, and swallowed his espresso in one gulp.

“How about you tell me a little about yourself?”

“I’ll start with the basics then. My name’s Eric, I’m originally from Atlanta, thirty-two and work for the Mittelmark ad agency.”

“Yeah, that’s basic all right. I’m afraid I have to start with a confession. My name’s Linda.”

“What happened to Fiona?”

“She got cold feet,” Linda said “and asked me to come tell you that the date was off.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I think you’re cute,” Linda leaned in and kissed Eric.

“It’s mutual,” he kissed back.


Stock Photo courtesy of Jesse Therrien.


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