“I’m going to write my autobiography” she said.
She stood up, took a roll of thick thread and began to tie, in succession, some of the things she found in the room. Five tea cups, three books, the microwave, her favorite armchair, a pair of shoes… She tied them tightly, gently laid them down on the floor and went for something more.
I was watching in silence and that unusual sequence made me think of the massive necklace of a huge and forgetful being that vanished, enormous and naked.
Then, I had a silly thought and smiled; I wondered how she could represent that scraped boat abandoned on the volcanic beach and its shadow where we spent the largest part of our first summer together.
The parade, Bologna (Italy)
microFICTION #11
This is really good! I’ve never tried to write micro-fiction before, but I like it a lot. Excellent work!
Thanks! I’m glad you like it. You should try it, it’s funny! Micro-stories make you focus on each word,’ cause the text must be so short but catching; exceding lines turn it into a “short” story. it’s something like a trap!