"He Didn't Mean It"

Microfiction, a.k.a. the short short story, a.k.a. flash fiction, is one of my favorite genres of literature. I first learned about it in a fiction writing class I took at Meramec back in 2004. Typically, a microfiction piece consists of less than 1,000 words, but some consist of just a few. For example, a Hemingway microfiction piece is simply this:
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
Only six words, but so descriptive, engaging, and full of different possible interpretations.

Anyway, microfiction is a great way to teach writing, and in particular, the importance of effective word choice, so I will MOST DEFINITELY be using this next semester with the kids at Sumner.

Just for the hell of it, I guess I'll post a microfiction piece I wrote for that fiction writing class. It's in desperate need of revision, but who cares. It's been done for four years- I'm not going to bother changing it now. I usually write in long, flowing, descriptive sentences, but I remember that it was nice to try something new, something outside of my usual writing routine. The thing I really like about this story is that it's written in the second person- very rare for fiction. The subject matter is subtle, but intense, and while it's only semi-autobiographical, it really touches me for some reason.

Readjust your twisted skirt. Tame your tousled hair. Wipe the tear from your rosy cheek and gather your composure. Sit up straight. Cross your legs. Be a woman. Ignore the fact that this is the third time this week. Pretend you’re not bothered. Push back the anger and silence the voices inside your head. Force those blistered lips into a smile. Tell him you’re sorry. Pretend to know what you’re sorry about. It’s not his fault. You should have known. Let him hug you. Hug him back. Don’t let him see your look of disgust. Let him kiss you. Kiss him back. Keep yourself from biting his tongue. Cook him dinner. Make his favorite dish. Grab a cold beer from the fridge. Watch him eat. You better clean up right away. He’s had a hard day. Rub his shoulders. Make him feel at ease. Turn on the ballgame. Light his cigar. Excuse yourself. Do his laundry. Iron his clothes. Put his children to bed. Ask him if he needs anything. Be attentive. Run your bathwater. Scrub well; he likes you clean. Shave your legs. Wax your bikini line. Paint your nails. Apply a pretty shade of pink lipstick. Cover that bruise. Get in bed and wait for him to join you. When he does, fulfill his needs. Don’t be selfish. He’s had a hard day. Don’t make him mad. Don’t be too needy. Don’t cry. Don’t ask him why. Don’t hold it against him. After all, he didn’t mean it.