[NOTE: THIS WAS AN ENTRY INTO A QPBC FLASH FICTION CONTEST. I WAS IN COLLEGE AT THE TIME, SO I WAS EXPOSED TO A BUNCH OF POST-MODERN BULLSHIT. SOME OF YOU WILL GET THE JOKE, OTHERS WILL THINK I'M STUPID. MAYBE BOTH. BUT I GOT A CHUCKLE OUT OF IT. SHIT, THIS INTRODUCTION IS LONGER THAN THE STORY. I'LL SHUT UP NOW.]
The Quality Paperback Book Club says to write a story 55 words long. Very difficult. What should I do? Stream of consciousness? No. I could go metafiction, but I don't want to be pretentious. That's something John Barth would do, and he's a big whiner. I'm too good for that.
Shit! Piss! Fuck!
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