Flash fiction can appear simple, but that doesn’t make it easy.Below is my entry in the Inlander’s 2011 short-short fiction contest. It made the first cut, but not the last.
He is a good father but his son never speaks. Despite their immured dialogue, he attempts to teach the boy the names of stars.
Sirius. Polaris. Betelgeuse.
But even the father’s immense paternal love can’t bridge the chasm between them. And yet, during rare instances when their eyes lock, understanding breaks through like crystal beams from a crescent moon, slicing october clouds. For a precious temporal dimple, the fog lifts, the boy smiles and the man and his son understand each other as well as any father and son ever have. Such muted endowments remind him, autism is just a cloud.
If you are curious to read the entries that did make the cut, go to www.inlander.com