99 words and more

I’m mourning the loss of Courtly Love, He Said, a story I shared on the ERWA listserv some years back. It was the first, and only piece of flash fiction I ever wrote, and had some special significance for me in what I was trying to achieve within 99 words.

I could re-write it now if I wanted to. I still remember a decent amount of it, but I am afraid it would change too dramatically, the essence of the original “from the womb to the tomb” kind of message I wanted to convey. On the other hand, I will have ample opportunity to change the one line I always wanted to change.

“So I married my fuck buddy instead.”

Which is just ridiculous, actually. Even in my limited worldly experience I know this. Perhaps, 20 years ago it may be different, but not in these millenial times. Then again, the persona was writing this after 25 years of marriage. So perhaps she married her fuck-buddy sometime in the `70s? Perhaps they were both high on something when they got hitched? Perhaps my persona was a flower-child in love with a courtly scholar. Who knows? The possibilities are endless. And now I start wondering if I shouldn’t just turn 99 words into 9 thousand words.

But then I wouldn’t have the succinct edge of the last line. And it wouldn’t be as cool to recite as 99 words.

I have lost other stories as well. I mourn the loss of the Raoul and Aryadnie stories, as well as the Elementals Quartet. I never got around to writing Fire and Earth, but Air and Water took a lot of work and research. Particularly Air, which required me to read up on sky-jumping as well as on homoerotic fiction. My first and only attempt at homoerotica, unfortunately.

My friend and soul-sister (or perhaps soul-mother, would be more accurate), disagreed when I told her I should write these things again only after 20 years or more, when I’m old, married or a mother. I think she’s right. It’s necessary for my sanity right now, in more than one way.