Tribute to Jeff Goldstein:
Recently Jeff did a marvelous bit of short [short being relative] fiction using a literary version of the quick-shot film technique a la Michael Bay, et al. Anyway, very amusing. Here is my tribute, in a few "short" paragraphs...
Carnie rose early. Well, "rose" put a bit too much shine on the mealy apple. Maybe this is would be more accurate: "Carnie opened one grime-encrusted eye and simulataneously fell from the roof of the tar-paper chicken coop, dragging nearly half the roof with him."
The point is he was awake. Groaning, gasping...but awake.
Baby walked through the corn field, humming her momma's favorite tune. The wind was light, barely bending the tops of the stalks, which seemed to move with Baby, as if engaged in a slow country waltz. That must be because Baby didn't eat corn (not even corn bread), and the stalks knew they could trust her. The familiar tune stopped suddenly as she broke into a clearing in the corn about 20 yards in diameter. "What in the world?" Baby thought to herself. She slowly circled around the object, only touching it after she'd seen all sides of it. "Why...that looks like one of them catty-pults from Carnie's books."
Carnie rose (this time for real) off the ground, wincing, patting off the dust, feathers and the rest. He looked back to the corn field...then to the giant stack of hay bales a few yards past the chicken coop. "More ballast next time," he thought.