This winter I took a class on writing short, short fiction; those in the know call it flash fiction. I thought I’d do something a little different this week, and share one of the stories I wrote for that class with you. This story, It’s Called Fast Food, was written in response to the assignment to create a one sentence story.
It’s Called Fast Food
She was in a big rush to get home because guests were arriving any minute and she’d had to wait longer for the Chinese food than she’d expected, so she tried to perform multiple tasks at the same time to get moving as quickly as she could; she put the Chinese food on the floor in front of the empty passenger seat, turned the key to start the engine, yanked the shift to ‘D’, and with her left hand turned the steering wheel, while using her right hand to reach across and grab the seatbelt and grope for the buckle at her side, simultaneously giving the car some gas and, without looking to her left, pulling out of her parking space, right into the path of an oncoming car, which effectively ended her ability to go anywhere, fast or otherwise, ever again.