A Short Story is Not a Car

 

 

At the writers’ group we were issued a list of things to check when we’re critiquing each others’ stories, things like plot, character, setting, dialogue. We’d put a tick or a cross depending whether the requirements were met. All well and good. Yet I couldn’t help thinking of the checklist that mechanics fill out when they’re servicing your car. So I said, “A short story is not a car!”

This put a brake on proceedings. They didn’t know what I was driving at. I didn’t know what I was driving at either. I just felt it was wrong. I don’t know what a short story is like but I do know it’s not like a car.

What do you think a short story is like?

Will You Stop Laughing Please!

 

 

He laughed loudly.

 

A door closed behind him.

 

He laughed more loudly still.

 

Another door closed behind him. Slammed!

 

He continued. He chortled. He guffawed. He split his sides.

 

A text message came through.

 

“Will you STOP laughing, please? You’re annoying me.”

 

No, he said to himself. No. It’s my house and I’ll laugh if I want to.

 

And he laughed even more loudly.

 

The walls laughed with him. They too were beginning to split their sides.

 

A door opened quietly behind him.

 

The man was too busy laughing to notice.

 

He stifled his laughter as the cord tightened around his throat.

 

This was no laughing matter.