Martin Cid Flash Fiction

Five things I will never lose

2011-12-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

by Ensor

First: the ability to be as stupid as it may be a man. Second: a knack for lying, for faking, for writing, for eating and for spiting. Third: the strange human wisdom of never being wrong, especially when I am wrong. Fourth: the prudence to boast always at the right time. Fifth (just to finish, my faults are many but I have one virtue that I have never confessed): the proud to be, in every moment or occasion, as sincere as deceptive, as true as fake, as worst as better and… as human as possible.
http://www.martincid.com/

Looking for the character

2011-12-18T09:01:00.000-08:00

I have lost him and I have forgotten his name. Years ago, he was mine, my fake creation and true fate, my only dream and the singular nightmare of my silent evening:

The unnamed character went out last Friday evening. Where has he gone? Over the waste land, beyond the sea of fools, even far away of my dreams, he is lost. No more heartbeats of his waste aim, no more feelings for his tired heart, no more lies for his tired paragraphs, no more breaths, no more kills and no more kisses.

At last, no more words.

For the Bible tell Me So

2011-12-09T10:10:00.000-08:00

Everything changes, as certain as the smiling moon, as hard as the accurate words of the lost gods of time. There are not flowers in the garden yet, there are not words for the wise man, there is not future for this, again and again, waste land of silent screams. Europe, my dear Europe, my dear Spain and its fate, our tragic fate of don Quixote’s ashes… time, again and again and, once more, the smiling disappointment of the past shattering the wise old promises. Once again, the empty future. http://www.martincid.com/

Martin Cid novels and works

2011-11-14T11:48:00.000-08:00

Martin Cid

First Prize of Jérez Short Stories, 2009
Prize Café Compás with the Short Story ‘Leviathan’
Prize Short Story Dante Aliguieri, 2007
Editor of Yareah magazine.

More: http://yareah.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/martin-cid-a-writer/

Dadaist catastrophe

2011-11-13T04:48:00.000-08:00

What would a Dadaist author say about our recent economical crisis? Ridiculous money, red car of an aggressive man, liquid stock market in the interior of my toilet. There are not reasons, not rules, not truths. Wars are a cancer, a business..., and businesses are a grey stomach. I am an outsider who likes clowns.

More flash fiction by Martin Cid: http://martincid.com/english/flash.php

INTERVIEW WITH MARTIN CID

2011-11-12T08:55:00.000-08:00

INTERVIEW ABOUT FLASH FICTION WITH MARTIN CID

By I. Zara

Martin Cid is a novelist who is recently very fond of flash fiction style. He is publishing brief fiction on his web page (http://www.martincid.com) and on other specialized blogs.

Q- Why are you so interested in this short subgenre now?

A.- I am a novelist and I am interested in novels, big novels where you can create a complete and close world. However, flash fiction allows some motivating possibilities. A novel has structural rules that you can break writing this short literary form and it is fascinating to condense thoughts in few words: a challenge.

Q.- There are very many discussions about the length. For example, Steve Moss (editor of the New York Times) established 55 words, no more and no fewer. What do you think of this requirement?

A.- Yes, I like to stick to 55 words and to play with words and thoughts to make everything fit. A good flash fiction can produce a strong feeling in the reader. We find the roots of flash fiction in Lovecraft or Hemingway… Of course, internet has given new possibilities.

Q.- When do you start to write flash fiction?

I cannot stop writing. I need to write daily and some busy days I was in a bad mood thinking about the impossibly of writing. Now, I get up, I take a coffee and go for a walk with Jack, my dog. Half an hour later I can write a good flash and the day goes well. If I can write my novels, it is better, but if I must go to pay bills or to whatever silly place, I think: ‘Well, at least I have written a flash, it is not a day wasted.’

Q.- Are you publishing the whole flashes on internet or are you thinking about a future book?

Of course, I am thinking about a book. I love novels but I have published essay and articles too. Why not a book with flash fiction?

Thank you very much.

Mary I of England

2011-11-09T09:58:00.000-08:00

Queen regnant of England and Ireland, bloody Mary, Queen consort of Spain, ugly wife, Five year reign, Catholic terror. Very beautiful in her youth, appalling in her death, the death of a fanatic infertile mother, who had 280 religious dissenters burned at the stake. She was a precocious child and a complete goofy afterwards: clap!

See: http://martincid.com/english/flash.php

THE GAME INSIDE ME by Martin Cid

2011-11-06T09:28:00.001-08:00

First time, it’s a long sick feeling… after that, card after card, just the never-ending game and the ethereal faces inside my soul. The ‘who’ replaces now furiously the ‘where’ and time after time evil sounds stroke the end of the game.
‘Where’s the last card?’
The last card is you.

INNER CHANCE by Martin Cid

2011-11-06T09:22:00.000-08:00

Last game, he lost. No position. No tactics, no luck. He looks around the tables and he found the secret between the Queen and the Bishop: a little and awkward piece. He imagined the past, always foggy, always clean. Why? Next game will be different, next game is now. The King is back. Smoke.

Hate by Martin Cid

2011-11-06T09:02:00.001-08:00

He is calmed, always calmed. It’s not necessary to be a monster to press the button… but it would help.
‘Who will pick up the corpses?’
‘Someone will do, there’s always someone to do that”.
Slowly, he pressed the button.
First time is always better.
No feelings, no hate, no smile.
The prisoner is dead.
Smoke.

Desperate Lady? by Martin Cid

2011-11-06T08:44:00.000-08:00

Lipstick on, she draw a perfect figure of love with the smoke of the cigarette and she stands up for a simple minute of plenty glory.
‘No more chances, Martin’.
Then, just a smile, just a goodbye, last and first goodbye.
Knife is still warm.
Near the sideboard, he is dead.
Smoke.

http://martincid.com/english/flash.php