Narrative Production: Inkredible

In English, we wrote a flash fiction. The only requirements were to effectively tell an original story in less than 750 words without dialogue. Although this might seem simple, it is challenging to set up and adequately resolve a story within such a limited space. Below is my flash fiction entitled Inkredible. Please enjoy.

Jonathan slid into the seat, dress shirt crisp, watch shifting as he raised his right wrist to put the van into reverse. His eyes darted to the mirrors before pulling away from the cement driveway, happy dandelions creeping through the cracks. Directions came from a pretty Australian woman’s voice through the Google Maps app on his Iphone 5. The radio had been re-set even after the car battery had been replaced, but it remained mute. Instead, Jonathan concentrated on the metropolitan landscape and imagined who he was picking up. As a driver, he had done this many times, playing out possible interactions between himself and his customers. After he had driven them, he proceeded to categorize them. Jonathan always kept a black sketchbook in the glove box where it kept his observations and important ideas concealed, now full of detailed life sketches, backgrounds, and personality traits.
On this particular morning as he rolled into the streets of Sydney, dew drops shone on the U of the Uber sticker on the windshield and Jonathan contemplated what his customer would look like. His phone screen glowed with the limited information he had to work with. Name: Inka Salminen, Location: Ritz Cinema (45 St. Pauls St.), Estimated travel time: 23 min. His thoughts instantly became cluttered. Miss Inka? Mrs. Salminen? Ms. Salminen? Ms. I. Salminen? Dr. Salminen? His mind raced through occupations, reasons for going to Ritz Cinema, what film she might have watched, what colored nail polish embellished her fingernails (if any), where she was from, where she was going, what she was wearing, how old she was. His mind generated a list as his right hand jotted them down in the notebook balanced on the center console. As he drove down Center St. his eyes stayed centered on the cluttered street, mindful of the weaving waves of cyclists on his left.
Ms. Inka Salminen. Five foot nine, one hundred twenty three pounds. Twenty seven, single, middle class. Fair, clean, dirty blonde, shoulder-length hair, mascara, no nail polish. White capris, pastel shirt. Six-month-old brown flats, a tan purse with a thin strap. Just went on a date to the movies with a polite and contemplative man in a crisp shirt and is waiting with him. Neither of them have a car. Saw the one o’clock showing of The Cinco Amigos, a comedic film with gringo actors, with bright smiles and interlaced fingers. The buttery smell of welldone popcorn still lingers on their colorful clothes.
Jonathan drove through the gleaming green lights. His pen dried up, so he turned most of his attention back to the lines and lights of the road. A faint smile crossed his previously creased lips. Slowly his van’s tires reached the unpainted curb of Ritz Cinema. His eyes darted first to his notebook then out the window. Pigeons sat on the steps, eating discarded popcorn and carelessly tripping over each other. Two men in suits stood hoping the pigeons would not come within a ten foot radius. Only one woman was near Ritz Cinema. Slowly, she made her way over towards the van and with great caution opened the door. Her neck brace was white against her olive skin. Not a word was exchanged, but the van brimmed with questions and wandering thoughts. Jonathan dropped her off at an apartment. She closed the van door and walked up the steps. The Australian lady told him that he had arrived. He sat. The splattering of bird poop slid down his windshield, waking him up from his state of nothingness.
He needed more ink and he needed Inka. His anticipation carried him first to Office Depot and finally to Penguin Books Australia.