Reading Up On MICRO FICTION

At first glance the Micro Fiction form seemed more attainable. Short sentences, careful choice of wording and a keen sense of what our really want to share with the reader. The true battle is being willing to edit your piece without crying - so to speak. Trying to brake down the right combination of words and structure without loosing the emotion of the thing has been my biggest challenge.


Attempt At Micro

A damp pungent smell engulfed my senses as I took my first step into a new opportunity. The tension in mom’s eyes screamed her personal fear to me as she was anxious to find the cure. Around the time I turned four, my allergies had become too severe I was literally starving to death. Restricted to five foods, I became a living experiment for doctors who thought they had so much to learn from me. Exiting the elevator, we entered a long narrow hall. Doors on either side opened revealing an incessant hollow black; flickers of light shown through them; streaks of blue, green, and bright orange. A TV show reflected off a mother playing with her little boy as he sat up in his bed watching his favorite cartoon. We continued to walk, slow and undirected; my little shoes stepping cautiously as if dancing slow on tiles made of fragile glass. I was egger to know what kind of adventure mom and I were in for this time. Normally, new places meant new people in white coats, who stuck you with all kinds of shiny nasty bee stings. I hoped with everything in me that this time I would avoid the skin venom; I didn’t like the itchy bumps it left on my arms. Due to the fact that our stay would be longer than most mom kept most of the details from me, so I was free to be as over optimistic as my fears would let me. The girl who stayed in the bed next to me was about ten years older then me making her about 14. She was so much more ill than I seemed to be, it made me wonder what I was even doing there. Dark circles under her eyes reflected weeks of long tests and disappointing diagnosis. Her flesh was a yellow color, and her ankles were flat like they had been run over by a truck; this was due to the medication she took daily at doses higher then most doctors would normally allow her bones became so hollow inside themselves they caved in and became completely crushed. On the day of our arrival she had been so happy and upbeat, mostly due to our presents in the room. Still, the girl seemed to disappear a little more every morning as the days went on; not quite herself but not completely gone either. Being young and sick left scars on everyone including my parents. When all the attention is placed on one person, whether or not they asked for it, they become the subject of scrutiny. The rules can changes overnight, and no one ever obligates themselves to warn you; but there is always hope.