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She put on a brave face as she pushed his reassuring hand off of her shoulder. "You taught me to be strong," she said, staring him in the eye, "and now I'm returning the favor. There's a disconnect between who you're playing up there and who you really are, and you need to remember that. Something terrible may happen to your character, but you need to be able to walk away from it at the end of the day, knowing that they're not you, and whatever that was never happened to you."
"Yes, it did," he found himself almost pleading with her -- begging for her to see the damage she was doing. "On some deep, intimate level, you know your character... so that the line between them and you eventually fades away. You may say that what happened back there doesn't affect you, but I can see it in the way you carry yourself... in your eyes... that you're hurt. You're hurt, because there is still that part of you that lives in that character, and it will never go away."
Frustration began to build in his voice as he continued, nearly shouting at her in an attempt to get her to just listen to him, "You can't just up and leave your body for a few minutes -- entirely becoming that character for as long as you need to -- it doesn't work that way! A little bit of you will always be in whoever you choose to portray, and... as a consequence," he said, pausing as he quickly remembered the point he had been making in the first place, "a little bit of them will become a part of you as well."
Desperate, he grabbed her hands, now begging with a a soft, concerned tone that she heed his advice, "Don't just tuck it away like it doesn't matter; you're tearing yourself apart."
She took a moment to look over the way he was holding her -- the firm yet gentle grip he was holding, as if he didn't want to let go, but at the same time, didn't want to see her hurt. Her eyes locked with his, and she could see the desperation -- the heartfelt plea his very soul seemed to be making. Though she hated to admit it, all this did make for a convincing argument. At the very least, she could say he definitely cared for her.
And that was a lot more than she could have said before.
"Yes, it did," he found himself almost pleading with her -- begging for her to see the damage she was doing. "On some deep, intimate level, you know your character... so that the line between them and you eventually fades away. You may say that what happened back there doesn't affect you, but I can see it in the way you carry yourself... in your eyes... that you're hurt. You're hurt, because there is still that part of you that lives in that character, and it will never go away."
Frustration began to build in his voice as he continued, nearly shouting at her in an attempt to get her to just listen to him, "You can't just up and leave your body for a few minutes -- entirely becoming that character for as long as you need to -- it doesn't work that way! A little bit of you will always be in whoever you choose to portray, and... as a consequence," he said, pausing as he quickly remembered the point he had been making in the first place, "a little bit of them will become a part of you as well."
Desperate, he grabbed her hands, now begging with a a soft, concerned tone that she heed his advice, "Don't just tuck it away like it doesn't matter; you're tearing yourself apart."
She took a moment to look over the way he was holding her -- the firm yet gentle grip he was holding, as if he didn't want to let go, but at the same time, didn't want to see her hurt. Her eyes locked with his, and she could see the desperation -- the heartfelt plea his very soul seemed to be making. Though she hated to admit it, all this did make for a convincing argument. At the very least, she could say he definitely cared for her.
And that was a lot more than she could have said before.
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Hey, guys. This was a little thing I'd decided I would try out and throw it up here on deviantART to see what you guys thought.
Basically, when I say it's flash fiction, I mean flash fiction. I wrote this in probably the span of 5-10 minutes on a single thread of inspiration, and didn't do much editing besides adding in little bits of narrative so it wasn't just two disjointed blocks of dialogue.
Basically, when I say it's flash fiction, I mean flash fiction. I wrote this in probably the span of 5-10 minutes on a single thread of inspiration, and didn't do much editing besides adding in little bits of narrative so it wasn't just two disjointed blocks of dialogue.
So, who are these characters? Why are they saying the things they're saying? What happened to them before this? What's going to happen after? Honestly, I have no idea.
The point of these flash fictions as I'm doing them is to tell a story and establish characters, all by showing only one scene out of an implied larger whole. I leave answers to questions like those up to the reader.
So with this, I'm basically testing the waters and seeing if this kind of thing works out. I have some ideas for other flash fictions I can write, and new ones come to me as sporadically as this one had, so there definitely wouldn't be a lack of content. All I need to know is if this is something you guys would like to see more of.
There's no real set of guidelines here -- no word limit, no specific number or type of characters I'll use every single time -- it's just me getting inspired to write and writing until that inspiration goes away. Who knows? Maybe these will naturally evolve and become something bigger all on their own.
There's no real set of guidelines here -- no word limit, no specific number or type of characters I'll use every single time -- it's just me getting inspired to write and writing until that inspiration goes away. Who knows? Maybe these will naturally evolve and become something bigger all on their own.
Anyway, let me know what you think in the comments below.
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