The following is submitted for the February WEPFF Back of the Drawer Flash Fiction challenge. Feel free to make a full critique (including the painting) and also submit your own entry.
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This is my messy desk. In the back of the main drawer is a tattered old folder that I never open, except for today. I have been dragging this folder around with me since I was in my twenties. It contains some diary pages written in French. I think I should reread these to remember who I was at twenty and then destroy them.
There is the beginning of a romance novel (in English) that takes place in France during the Middle Ages. (The writing kind of makes my stomach turn.) Somehow I am still drawn to the mystery of the Middle Ages as if I had been there--to France as if I had been there.
There is a copy of Jacques Prévert's poem, Déjeuner du Matin, which I still love. My copy of La Ballade des pendus by Francois Villon seems to be missing. My taste in poetry runs to the dark side.
There is an old post card from a former boss sent to me while he was attending a law conference in Florida and a birthday card from someone I lost touch with long ago who probably isn’t alive anymore.
From my days studying for an AA degree in electronics, there are two small notebooks full of electronics formulas and notes about calculating power in circuits, all meticulously and beautifully written in small print. I loved those two years. It was hard work and a long story in itself.