If Only

Abstract： In this article， the author gives a brief introduction to a literary form of flash fiction， talks about her reflection on Chris Macy’s 55 fictions – Like Two Ships and draws the conclusion that isolation is what really keeps people from connecting each other.

Key words： flash fiction， isolation， connection

Flash fiction has become increasingly prevalent in the literary community. Many literary publications， both print and on line， have shifted their focus to include， or focus exclusively upon flash fiction. The root of flash fiction can be found in both Aesop’s Fables and ancient Chinese fables. World famous flash fiction practitioners have included Anton Chekhov， O.Henry， Franz Kafka， Ernest Hemingway， Jr.Fredric Brown， Yasunari Kawanata and Hoshi Shinichi. More and more Chinese writers such as Yuan Bing Fa and Teng Gang have also gradually gained their fame in this field. Flash fictions such as the gift of Magi by O.Henry， Baby Shoes by Hemingway， and The Last Person on Earth”， the shortest science fiction in the world， by Jr.Fredric Brown are widely read by flash fiction lovers all over the world.

Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature with extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. The word limit varies from 55words to 75words， 100 words or even more. Not only is the definition of flash fiction unstable， but the name is as well. Other names for it include short-short stories， sudden， postcard， minute， fast， skinny， micro fiction and smoke-long story （just long enough to read while smoking a cigarette）. In China， this type of writing has several interesting names：little short story， pocket-size story， minute-long story， palm-sized story.

Despite the limitation of length， flash fiction satisfies all the requirement of a short story： protagonist， conflict， and resolution. However， unlike a traditional short story， the constrain of form often forces some of the elements to remain unwritten— that is， hinted at or implied in the written storyline. Thus different readers may have different interpretations of the flash fiction.

The popularity of flash fiction can be attributed to the quickening pace of modern life. In modern society， a busy reader may resist a length story and return to their budgets and spreadsheets. With only the essence of the story and without the inconvenience of length， flash fiction offers its readers a chance to fit a story into small， stolen moments. This is why flash fiction， one form of the ancient prose， has found new life in this era with its demand for short and concise work.

As a type of flash fiction， 55 fiction is a complete short story with an exact word count. The origin of 55 fiction can be traced back to a short story writing contest organized by New Times， an independent alternative weekly in San Luis Obispo， California， in 1987. The idea was proposed by New Times founder and publisher Steve Moss. Since then the 55 Fiction concept has been a copyright of Steve Moss of New Times. Only two books were published： The world’s Shortest Story and the World’s shortest Stories of Love and Death， each one just 55 words long.

55 fiction usually follows the criteria of 55 words or less （but some publishers actually requires exactly 55 words）， a setting， one or two characters， some conflict and a resolution. The title of the story is not part of the overall word count， but it still can not exceed seven words. So the challenge of a 55 fiction is to tell a complete story in which every word is absolutely essential.

“ Like Two Ships” by Chris Macy included in The World’s Shortest Stories， is a typical 55 fiction， which vividly describes what is going on in two sensitive people’s mind in exactly 55 words：

Like Two Ships

He entered the elevator.

“Ground floor， please，” he said.

He sounds nice， she thought， but he wouldn’t notice me.

He noticed. He noticed her standing there， eyes straight ahead. But he didn’t blame her.

Nice perfume， he thought as they parted， he lightly stroking his disfigured face， she counting the steps to the waiting van.

（Chris Macy， 1995）

In spite of its length， the story has a setting： an encounter in an elevator， two characters： a disfigured man and a blind woman； the conflict： their obscure attraction and repulse make it more poignant by the fact that it is not directly addressed. The resolution： they parted with some regret deep down.

The simile of “two ships passing in the night” is frequently used by some famous American poets such as Longfellow in his Tales of Wayside Inn and Thomas Moor in his Meeting of ships. The image allows readers to visualize two strangers meeting coincidentally， each having different place to go and different things to do. They are like two ships meeting just in that night close enough to flash messages to each other. However， they are both going each other’s way， and perhaps， they will never pass again. This snapshot， a realistic reflection of modern life， affords much food for reflection.

I like how Chris Macy alludes to the poignancy of self-imposed isolation in “Like Two Ships.” The title is a take-off on an old saying： We are “like two ships passing in the night” –self-contained， helplessly carried away from others by waters of erroneous assumptions about ourselves and others， choosing isolation， doomed to stay our chosen course （ rather than getting off the elevator， of course with a friend）. In our isolated thoughts and lives， we pass each other by without connecting.

In describing a chance encounter between two ships passing （a disfigured man and a blind woman）， Macy evokes our own inner concerns about being emotionally blind when we think we are not up-to-standard physically. What gift is out there eluding us because we cannot see it？ Macy shows us –it is the gift of connection.

Macy tells us the thoughts of two people in an elevator， briefly meeting and parting without connecting. She， in her blindness， could not see his disfigured face. She noticed his attractive voice， yet thinks he would not notice her. He， in his anguish over his “disfigurement，” was blind to her sightlessness. He noticed her physical attractiveness， yet felt she was repulsed by his appearance. Drawn to each other， yet unable to reach through their barriers， they parted company. They passed each other in the night of isolation： each unaware of the other’s piqued interest （“He sounds nice， she thought.” Nice perfume， he thought.”）. Each cocooned in crushing thoughts. “He noticed her standing there， eyes straight ahead. But he didn’t blame her.” He thought she was staring straight ahead because she was repulsed by his disfigurement. He was too engrossed with his isolating thoughts of self-pity to see she was blind. She， also absorbed in isolating thoughts， thought， “he wouldn’t notice me.” Not so！ But isolation kept them from connecting， even kept them from exchanging polite small pleasantries which brighten up our days. They parted， each unaware that their so-called handicap is the very route to their seeing another person’s worth， of another person seeing their worth.

How my heart aches for this man and this woman. As Macy shows us ourselves， he highlights the important problem of self-imposed isolation. We leave our isolation when we acknowledge our strong， favorable points give us the impetus to reach out to others because we know we are fine， just as we are. If only we would see our best selves. If only we would project that good self-image to others. If only we would expect and receive our well-deserved gift of connecting with each other in mutual love， friendship， encouragement and support.

Reference

1. Chris Macy， Like Two Ships， in Steve Moss， （ed.） The World’s Shortest Stories， San Louis Obispo： New Times Press， 1995， p.78.

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