These were my answers for the short short fiction exercise I posted about a couple days ago:
1. She was the kind of person who was always telling me about her dreams, as if I cared, and she would always end by asking me what I thought the dream "meant," as if I would tell her anyway.
2. He always said he was going to open a restaurant someday. He never said anything about it being that kind of restaurant, or about her being involved.
3. You could spot Francine from a mile away because that was back when we were living in that godforsaken town in Texas and who the hell else would be riding a unicycle?
4. Someday he would be able to purge his iPod of all those 911 calls he had downloaded off the Internet. But he still had ten more pounds to lose, and nothing else did the trick of keeping him going on the treadmill.
5. She always said the spicier the better. I cannot be blamed.
This week's assignment is to write a short short fiction story about an object. The instructor defines short short fiction as no more than 5 double-spaced pages, which in my world is ~1500 words, which in my world is not "short short" at all. So anything I do for this class, presuming I keep with it, is going to be "short short short fiction," or perhaps even less prolix than that.