At last weekend’s Geneva Writer’s Group, (photo above) Susan, who was running the workshop, opened with an exercise about a memory. Mine was of my grandfather, Percy, and his garden shed. Once the image sprang to mind, I stuck with that and, ignoring the subsequent exercises – I’m not an ideal student – I continued writing my short story. I gave myself an additional challenge: write a flash fiction of about 250 words that contained only one sentence. The result was The Shed. Here’s the beginning:
Lurking in the dank shadows, amid a heavy wreak of creosote, a rake, head held high, leans across a bundle of raffia, the strands of which escape and tumble to the floor and over earthenware pots plopped in unruly piles next to a … (read on)