Forgotten Futures

Lauren (over at Hello, You are not here) shot me a link to this flash fiction contest over at New Scientist.

For those of you who are unaware, Flash Fiction is a "genre" of writing that isn't very long (hence the "flash" part).

Having taken a college course on this, I can tell you it's pretty stupid.
I personally don't believe fiction should have boundaries, I don't think one should limit one's self to a specific length (and therein syntax, dialogue/exposition/plot limitations) because, in the end, fiction should write itself. You should never struggle to get something out, never tell yourself you have too many words, or force yourself to choose one specific word over some unnecessarily long and wordy paragraph.

In the spirit of the contest, however, I took the challenge and wrote one up using the 350 word count as a plot device rather than a limitation.

The contest was called 'Forgotten Futures', or how the present looked like "The Future" to the past. Think "The War of the Worlds and Nineteen Eighty-Four as masterpieces of speculative literature, but have somehow or other lapsed into obscurity. Each is a forgotten vision of the future."

At least, that's how I interpreted the task:

Hormonally Vivid Excitations

Gretchen woke up hungover, wrapped in a large quilt. She scratched her head, trying as hard as she could to recall what had happened the night before, but the last thing she remembered was stumbling out of the apartment of the black guy she let fuck her in the ass because she's menstruating and let's face it, pregnancy sucks.

Memo: When I Become a Super-powered Individual

Since most of the good superpowers have been taken...and we all know that making some second-rate superhero with first-rate abilities never works out (I'm looking at you SubMariner), I've decided to list all the abilities I'm willing to have.

Note to DC and Marvel: If I see any of these in print, Fuck you, I'm suing.