FlashFiction.Net

I'll talk a bit more about the quite accomplished poet Mary Reufle's first collection of prose, The Most of It, in the coming days. For now, I'll let this piece speak for itself, as Wednesday's Flash Therapy. In the meantime, purchase this collection. Like. Now.

                        ON TWILIGHT

   I read the poem of a student  and in the  poem God
wandered   through  a  room  picking up random ob-
jects -- a pear, a vase, a shoe -- and in bewilderment
said,  "I made  this?".  Apparently God had forgotten
making  anything at all. I awarded this poem a prize,
because  I  was  a  judge  of  such  matters.  I  was not
really   awarding  the   student, I was  awarding God;
I knew someday the  student  would  pick  up  his  old
poem  and  say  in  bewilderment,  "I made this?", and
at  that  moment his whole  world would be  lost in the
twilight,   and  when   you  are   finally  lost in  the  twi-
light, you cannot judge anything.

For further reading, check out FlashFiction.Net's suggested readings of flash fiction and prose poetry collections, anthologies, and craft books, by clicking here.

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