‘For sale: baby shoes, never worn.’ Flash fiction at its best. A piece often associated with Hemingway, even though the claim is unsubstantiated.
Unsurprisingly, Ernest Hemingway was no stranger to flash fiction. He once penned a most amazing flash piece, far shorter, leaner, and more enduring.
Islands in the Stream.
I’m talking about the book title, not the book. Islands in the stream, the sentence, a statement, as in individuals within a greater dynamic, units that stand out, that withstand the pressure and pull. Pieces of land jutting out of the current, exerting their influence. Slabs of rock shaped by water, earth made fertile and hospitable in the midst of brine. Made inaccessible. Hostile. Romantic. Valuable. Home. Made and remade and broken and reformed and constantly redefined in the wake of time.
Outcroppings, numerous and huge and diverse, connected via a submerged platform, common roots, different facades. Related yet separate, unique, no two ever alike.
Ever-changing like a river, you can never set foot on the same one twice. An expressed intention in an ever-flowing stream of life, they stand out, shaping the current that shapes them in turn. Manifest integration. Overland reefs. Anchors and reference points, solid ideas in the stream of consciousness. Havens and resting places, harbors, lees, amplifiers of the current and whirlpool generators, contours in a sea of flowing glass. Fortresses of life above water, crenellations from which the first amphibians waged war on the thin open air, claiming the land for themselves, eyeing the sky.
Protrusions in a screen that runs deep and fertile.
Stepping stones for those rising the ladder of life.
Pockets of evolution, where the stagnant evolved, then ceased to evolve, creating unique stations of biology, culture, circumstance, circumference, inflexion, insurrection, identity, indemnity, survival. Pitstops in the greater ebb and flow of a life everlasting. Oxygen parapets steeped in rain and tempest and sunshined glory.
Islands in the Stream … A four-word epic inside which the history of the world churns.
Flash fiction at its best!
From the bays of Pearl Coast,
Dive in crystal waters, find a shiny pearl.