Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.
Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Fiction/Poetry Combination for others in the series.
The middle-aged man sitting alone in the front row, a half-dozen women scattered through the rest of the seating, the pretzels and coffee maker on the table in the back, the three teenage girls peeking in the door and retreating, and no one making eye contact – Perri had seen it all before. Fantasies of literary success had long since faded into the reality of giving author talks at libraries and coffee shops and yet, as she began to speak, she noticed the man in the front row sit forward just that little bit, the teenagers slip into seats at the back, and the women stop their shuffling; all of them raised their eyes to her.
Surely there’s a word
a kind of understanding
I can give to you