Random story fun

It’s time for some creative writing fun. Today, I am going to create flash fiction, which is a very short story of no more than 1,500 words. In fact, flash fiction can be as short as six words, as in: “I forgot the stove; fire ensued.” There is action and conflict in those six words. Forgetting is action, fire creates conflict. It’s a story. If you want to write a longer flash fiction piece, but you find beginning the story intimidating, you’re in luck. Technology has solved your problem. You can go to a writing exercise and prompt generator, such as this one (https://writingexercises.co.uk/index.php), and you can find all sorts of fun stuff, such as random plot generators, random first line generators, and so much more. This is a great way to get past the terror of “I can’t come up with a first line of my story” freeze that you might experience when looking at an intimidating blank screen. It’s just taunting you to write something, isn’t it? It did that to me, but I solved that by finding a story starter, and then, my story took off. I had no story planned. It was spontaneous. Sometimes, your best writing is spontaneous, when you have fewer expectations.

The random first line generator gave me: They say everyone who looks into their family history will find a secret sooner or later.

They say everyone who looks into their family history will find a secret sooner or later. And, sure enough, it happened. I had been reading the diaries of my grandmother when I discovered something very shocking. It was unlikely that my Grandpop was actually my Grandpop. I wonder if he ever knew that. He was a loving Grandpop but he was ailing by the time I came around.

But those diaries. They mentioned something about a dear friend named Gunner Rudolf. Oh, and a separation from dear Grandpop. It was an unofficial separation because it was long before the whole concept of no-fault divorce happened. Grandma was all about this Gunner guy. She went to the county fair with Gunner. She took long walks with Gunner. It was Gunner this and Gunner that, and her parents took notice of this relationship and where was hubby? Because Grandma just said that hubby had somewhere to go and she needed to spend the summer with her parents or something to that effect. Great Grandparents reminded their Darling Daughter that they were not in favor of her marriage, that sixteen years old was too young to make a lifelong decision like get married. But she went ahead and eloped with her boyfriend of FIVE MONTHS because she was stubborn like that.

I inherited Grandma’s stubbornness. She was a character. I never knew how much of a character until I read those diaries. That summer that she was separated from Grandpop, she was eighteen and already had one child, my uncle Rurik Peter. She doted on the baby, but she also wanted to have fun because she was still a teenager and that’s what teenagers do. I guess. Well, anyway, the summer of fun ended early because Gunnar Rudolf got drafted and went off to serve in the military. Lots of the guys got drafted and they ended up in some trench or another. There was a song about guys in trenches and a truce during Christmas Eve. Well, something like that. It was sad. Made me cry. Anyway, Grandma went back to Grandpop and she had a baby almost eight months later. She claimed in her diary that the baby was premature, but my mother weighed nine pounds when she was born. And Grandma said, when my mother was about two years old, she looked exactly like Gunner and it made her happy to see that face because Gunner died in the war from exposure to mustard gas, I think.

Grandpop never knew anything about all of that. Grandma said Grandpop asked her how come my mother didn’t look like anyone in the family. Well, once or twice, but he was too busy working or trying to work because the economy died and the jobs dried up. Yep, Grandma wrote that in her diary in exactly these words. “The economy just died. They call it a ‘depression,’ but the economy ain’t depressed; it’s dead. Passed away. Kicked the bucket.’” She was like that, my Grandma. A free spirit. I don’t think she ever had another affair or… um… a friend with benefits.

Mama was born during the Spanish flu pandemic. Grandma couldn’t take her anywhere for fear of getting the baby sick. She didn’t know the fate of Gunner back then. She wrote a lot in her diary. Then said something about Grandpop becoming more and more silent. She wondered about that. Said she couldn’t carry on a conversation for two people. Or maybe she could, she suggested. She wrote a novel. I don’t know if it was ever published. I found parts of it in the attic when I was little. I carried them downstairs and read them. They weren’t complete. I kept them and, when I was a teenager, I tried to finish the novel and fill in the gaps. I never showed it to anyone. Mama had no idea that Grandma wrote anything. The novel pieces were in a box with Grandma’s wedding dress, which Mama left untouched. Mama couldn’t wear Grandma’s wedding dress. She was not the same size as her mother. At all. Her body was shaped differently than her sister’s. Not just a little. A lot. They didn’t even look like sisters.

After my grandparents passed away, I found the diaries hidden in the attic. I went to that house on my own, shortly before the house was sold, because Mama suggested to me that, if I wanted anything from it, I should collect it. I found another piece of the novel and the diaries and broken jewelry. I made new pieces with the broken jewelry. And I added the piece of the novel to the pieces I already had. It started to make sense. I never knew what was in the missing pieces, but I still considered filling in the gaps and finishing the novel. I think that Grandma would have been happy about that. She was a very passionate person. She loved with her whole heart and a little bit more. She loved her garden, and she loved her family and she loved to feed people and to tell them stories. All my friends heard Grandma’s stories.

I read those diaries over and over. And I wondered who Gunnar was and where he came from and if he had any family and if I was related to Gunnar. I debated getting my DNA done, but I couldn’t decide. What if he really was a bad guy? What if he never really went to war, but just disappeared and broke Grandma’s heart? I never found any letters from Gunnar. None at all. When I went into Grandma’s attic, I found all sorts of stuff, neatly tied with ribbons, including the diary and the pieces of the novel. But the rest of the novel was missing and, if there were any letters from Gunnar, they were missing, too. By the time I learned about the existence of Gunnar, anyone who would have known him was long gone.

There is a fullness in my heart because I had such a Grandma to tell me stories and to give me cookies when I was sad and cake when I was celebrating something. But an emptiness, too, because I always wonder who I am and where I came from, and no one can tell me.

And now: for you!!! If you’d like, write a six word story! And feel free to share in the comment section below!