One-Minute Flash Fiction: 100 One-Page, Monologue-Style Miniatures to Peruse in Spare Moments (en Inglés)
Reseña del libro "One-Minute Flash Fiction: 100 One-Page, Monologue-Style Miniatures to Peruse in Spare Moments (en Inglés)"
One-Minute Flash FictionThis is a book of one-page, monologue-style flash fiction pieces. All one hundred of them are taken directly from Dave Kilgore's book, "Another 100 Short and Effective Monologues: Original, one-minute pieces for adult actors to use in auditions, classroom, and practice." Here, in this format, Dave shares these same, brief scenes of drama, comedy, romance, and reverie with all the non-actors, but without all the boring acting tips. Samples: LITTLE GIRL OF MINEJust look at you. Little Sarah Ann Miller. Barely an hour old, and already you're the most beautiful thing in the universe. I'll bet as soon as you saw daylight, you had your entire future planned out. Knock out all the boys in school with a wink and a smile, put them all to shame with your perfect grades in college, and bury them with your wit and cunning in the boardroom. You'll rise to run the company, take a break to pursue your political career, and wind up running the nation. You'll right all the wrongs, bring peace and abundance to a warring and hungry planet, and make this world a better place to live in, all while raising beautiful children of your own. But for now, sweetheart, you go ahead and rest. You've got so much ahead of you, so much to look forward to. You're going to own the world one day, little girl of mine. I'd bet my life on it. You'll own the world, my little Sarah Ann Miller. SIBLING TRAUMABefore you go to sleep tonight, you need to put some serious thought into how you're going to address this problem in the morning. It's not going away on its own, I can tell you that for sure. Your sister loves that doll more than anything. What were you thinking? You just about traumatized her. Do you know what that means? I'm not sure if she's ever going to recover. So either you find the head so I can put it back on the body and give that doll back to your sister in the morning in one piece, or you and I are going to have to figure out a special kind of punishment. I'm thinking . . . either take something you love away from you, ground you for a month, or both. But I'm hoping we won't have to resort to that. I'm hoping your conscience will guide you to remember where you hid that doll's head. Now go to bed, and before you go to sleep, think about what you've done and about how you're going to make amends. Maybe you'll do the right thing and we can finally have a little peace around here tomorrow.MISSING HERI saw something interesting while I was driving through a cemetery the other day. A woman. I didn't see her, actually. Just her headstone. It looked a bit weatherworn. Had to have been there a good number of years. Most likely, I believe, it was either her birthday or her anniversary. Her grave was covered in flowers. A fortress of them surrounding the immediate perimeter, and there was a folding lawn chair off to one side with an old man sitting in it. Quiet. Still. Just sitting. Like he was on guard. His hands folded in his lap, staring straight ahead like a statue. I don't know how long he'd been there. I drove around the place, stopped and had a cigarette by a fountain on the back of the property, listened to the birds. On my way out, about an hour later, I drove by again. He was still there. Looked like he hadn't moved an inch. I left, wondering what it would be like to miss someone that much. Or to be missed like that.
