[stylist] Flash fiction-- looking for feedback

[Tessa]

Hi, 
I would consider this a scene, rather than a piece of flash fiction, ff as I understand it is a complete, very short story, 500 to 800 or so words.
Tessa


----- Original Message -----
From: Alyssa Frierson via stylist  <stylist at nfbnet.org>
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Date: Wednesday, June 28, 2017 7:39 pm
Subject: [stylist] Flash fiction- looking for feedback

>
>
> Hello,
> 
> I've recently written my first piece of flash fiction, tentatively
> titled "Lying Lady Lover." It might be part of a series; I'm not sure
> yet. I've pasted it below. I was wondering if I could get some
> feedback. Does it hold your interest? Would you read more stories with
> this character?
> Thank you.
> 
> You should know that I am a girl who likes girls. You should also know
> I have not told my family about this part of myself. I want to become
> a vegetarian, but I'm not sure why. It feels like the right thing to
> do to help save the planet. My family doesn't really know this either,
> though I think they suspect.
> I'm sitting at the dinner table, cutting into my sausage and
> pretending it's a zucchini. My sister, Amelia, is sitting across from
> me, yammering on about some boy at school, letting her food get cold.
> As I mash my fork into my potatoes, I think about the pretty girl I
> saw on the bus earlier today. She got off two stops before me, near
> the hospital. I tried not to stare as she walked past, tried not to
> notice how she smelled of coffee or how her hair fell in thick dark
> ringlets down her back.
> I'd also tried not to notice, as she walked away, her tight jeans and
> even tighter t-shirt, purple with some writing scribbled across the
> front. She'd sat across the aisle and down a little to the left of me,
> and I'd been able to tell a few things about her when I stole quick
> glances. She looked in her early twenties, about my age,. She wore no
> makeup or jewelry, except a silver bracelet on her right wrist. Her
> purse was on her lap, and-
> "Maggie?" Amelia breaks into my thoughts.
> "What?"
> She puts emphasis on every word, sounding annoyed. "Pass the potatoes."
> I do, glancing at her half-empty plate before I chase a pea around my
> plate with my fork.
> She's saying something else now as she mashes her potatoes, but I'm
> not listening. I'm still thinking about the girl on the bus and
> wondering where she went when she got off, what her name is, if I'll
> see her again.
> 
> 
> - 
> Alyssa Frierson
> Blogging at:
> http://diabetesdiary.dreamwidth.org/
> 
> Follow me on Facebook:
> https://facebook.com/AlyssaFriersonAuthor/
> 
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