Author’s note: This piece is microfiction, inspired by a friend in a writer’s group. Commonly, microfiction is limited to between 100 and 300 words, sometimes with additional parameters. In this case, the prescription was 100 words, action-adventure, must use the word “want,” and must include dialing a phone.
© Randy heffner
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I awoke to unusual shadows flitting across the ceiling. Heads and arms. A baseball bat. I grabbed the phone. 911. No signal. Nothing. Dead. As I would soon be.
The shadows changed to scratching at the wall. Then clawing at the door. Someone wanted in. Or something.
This mountain cabin was a bad idea. In the wild, I thought, I can write. Discover reality. Achieve my dream. Ha. Who am I? Thoreau? Kit Carson? Pfft. Nobody.
The clawing grew, then a loud crash. I startled awake to the bright sun and my dog, beside my tipped over desk chair.
by Randy Heffner
Randy lives at the intersection of philosophy, theology, and culture — reading, watching, walking, and sometimes creating in search of our better selves. Film and photography have a lot to do with it, but anyway, art. The tie is an anomaly.
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It is the beginning of a movie.