Flash Fiction: January 14, 2025

The writing prompt: A minimalist and a maximalist fall in love.

“What is this?” he asked, looking at the stacks of file boxes.

Each one seemed to go on forever, rising toward the sky that did not appear to have an end itself.

“Welcome to my mind,” she replied.

Never having more than a few personal items on him at any given time, the man was struck by the sheer volume. Looking around, he became fixated on the objects on top of objects; a pearl necklace draped over a box; an open can of paint sitting on top of another.

“Where do you keep your—” he began.

“Dreams?” she said, attempting to finish his question. “Well, you see, I do try to keep things organized in here. The thoughts that strike me in the early morning can be found in that aisle, while everything that comes to mind after midnight usually stays up front.”

Stretching out her arm, dressed with more bangles than he could count, she pointed toward a corner over his right shoulder. It was only then that he noticed the entire lack of rings on her fingers, as stark and natural as her eyes.

Nervously, the man reached his hands into his coat pockets. For once, they weren’t empty. Tracing the familiar outline of his pocket watch, he allowed the chill of its metallic exterior to relax the thoughts of his own.