Brittany Gefroh

ENGL 167

Short Poem
Leave waterless springs
That fail to please. Dive into
His living water.

Flash Fiction Short Story

Manny Abano was nostalgic for his youth. He had been a blithe child, living his life day-
by-day with little care about the future. He saw no reason to care; his life had always been good
and devoid of hardship, and he expected that to continue forever.
Unfortunately, he was wrong. He became friends with rebellious boys and soon after
committed burglary, which got him sent to prison for a couple decades. Finally out of prison, his
life was a mess. He was homeless, and he was miserably hungry and thirsty, both literally and
figuratively. As his stomach ached for food and water, his soul ached for some purpose in life.
One night he dreamed he was walking down a seemingly never-ending hallway. On each
side of the hallway were doors, each with a sign with messages like “Come here and be
satisfied.” But he saw something sinister about these doors, so although he wanted to see what
was within, he walked forward. Eventually, he realized that there was a luminous door at the end
of the hallway. He was curious and not sure initially that he should check it out, but as he
walked toward it, he felt he was being drawn to it, and he found it impossible to avoid.
Thus, he approached the door, turned the knob, and walked into the room cautiously.
What he saw absolutely astonished him. There was a fountain of water in the center of the room
with a great variety of food all around. Momentarily, he thought that he should not eat or drink
anything because it could have been poisoned, but desperate, he ran to the fountain and began to
drink frantically. Instantly, his thirst was quenched. He went over to the food, began to eat some
bread, and instantly no longer felt hungry. He was so absorbed in eating and drinking that he
failed to notice a man sitting at the edge of the room, watching him intently.
“Welcome to the Room of True Satisfaction,” the man said.
 Startled, Manny said, “True Satisfaction? That is what I’ve been searching for all my
life. How I can receive it?”
The man replied, “This room is only a sign; the True Satisfaction is not found here, but
you will find it when you awake, only if you follow my instructions. The moment you awake,
walk down the street you are sleeping on. Once you have walked for three blocks, enter the first
building you see on the right. You will find True Satisfaction within that building.”
Before he could say thanks, Manny awoke. Remembering the man’s instructions, he
walked down the street. After three blocks, he saw the building the man had mentioned and
approached it. As he turned the knob on the door, he hoped that he had left his empty life behind
on the street corner and that he would find the key to beginning his life anew within the
mysterious building.

Flash Nonfiction Essay

Driving and I—I suppose you could say that we have a love-hate relationship. Of course,
I love the convenience that being able to drive brings. How else would I make my almost
weekly Wal-Mart runs to buy Vitamin Water, fill up my huge bin of snacks, and stock up on
other necessities? 13th Avenue South and I are well acquainted, and I can thank my lovely blue
Pontiac Torrent and my relatively young (about a year-old) driver’s license for that.
Oh, but I sure hold a grudge against them—well, not my Torrent, as it was not around to
witness the source of my hatred for my driver’s license, but my driver’s license, you better
believe I often dream of revenge toward it and the action it permits. I should’ve known this
relationship with driving wouldn’t turn out well. Our first date almost ended with a crash into
my grandma’s garage. I pretty much ended the relationship for a couple years until I made the
fateful decision to give it another try. Driving seemed to have changed his ways. Not every time
spent with him was a romantic walk on the beach, but there weren’t any scarring “run into my
beloved grandma’s garage with my mom’s beloved mini-van, I’m in huge trouble” moments.
I should’ve known that wouldn’t last. Let me introduce you to my old Pontiac
Bonneville, my dad, and a stormy day this past summer. Storm comes in. I’m working at my
dad’s office. Dad says, “You should go home, so the car doesn’t get hailed on.” Not so smart
me agrees, I climb into the Bonneville—my “silver bullet” as my dad always called it—and the
rest is history. How I loved that day! Zero visibility on State Street. Almost crashing into a
pole. Getting stranded at a flooded intersection on Century Avenue. People think going to
Disney World is fun? That’s nothing compared to the fun I had with driving that day.
I’m sure my love driving wishes I wasn’t just being terribly sarcastic. I’ve yet to forgive
him for that traumatic experience. He even likes giving me déjà vu moments since then. Way to
add insult to injury, driving! It’s going to take more than a few dates with you to Wal-Mart to
make up for what you’ve done. Perhaps if you could stop guzzling so much gas and burning
away my money…

Six-word Short Story

The origin chopped the axes apart.

Six-Word Memoir
I followed Christ. Could you tell?