Missed Targets | Flash Fiction

Hands typing on keyboard illustration - "Missed Targets" flash fiction

‘One hundred words to go, that’s all, bobblehead! One hundred little words to write until I meet my target and I can rest easy. And it’s only 4 a.m.! I’ve done well, haven’t I?’

The writer’s bobblehead mascot nods frantically in agreement as she taps out a manic rhythm on the desk with her fingers.

‘It would be way later… earlier? Later? Well, it would be like 6 a.m. right now if I’d have given in to watching Jurassic Park III at midnight. I mean, I’d probably be done by now if I hadn’t have watched Jurassic Park and The Lost World back-to-back at 8 p.m., but you live and learn, right? You live and learn.’

‘Oh, shut up, will you?’

The writer freezes.

The bobblehead sighs. ‘If you spent less time gibbering on at me – an inanimate sodding object – and more time actually writing, you’d have no problem meeting these self-imposed word targets.’

‘Am I… are you… Am I losing my mind, bobblehead?’

‘I don’t know about that, but what I do know is that you haven’t slept in 48 hours. I think you ought to go to bed.’

‘But I haven’t met my target. I’ve got to write 100 more words.’

‘Forget it. It’s futile. The 2900 words you’ve already written are useless, anyway.’

‘Really? I know it’s a first draft, but it can’t be that bad.’

‘Oh, it is. Look at your screen.’

The writer does so. The document before her reads as follows:

Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead. Bobblehead…

‘Christ. I really am losing it, aren’t I? Is this real life? Are you real life? Am I real life?’

‘Stop spiralling and get to bed!’

‘I will. I’m going now. I’m gone.’


Author’s note: This is definitely not an accurate representation of my life.

I’m writing daily stories on Instagram! Follow me @tinysillystories if you feel like it, I dunno, I’m not the boss of you (but, please.)

Follow Ellie Scott on WordPress.com

Enjoyed this post? Share it with your friends!

Author: Ellie Scott

Ellie Scott is a freelance content writer from Sheffield, UK. She writes speculative and silly short stories and flash fiction, and book reviews for short attention spans. Her most common pastimes include procrastinating on Twitter (@itsemscott) and Instagram (@tinysillystories), and hibernating on her sofa with a book and a (very large) glass of gin.

5 thoughts on “Missed Targets | Flash Fiction”

  1. I have a bobblehead of Gaylord Perry that I received at a San Francisco Giants game. It doesn’t speak, but it has been known to peer at me intently, and I suspect its eyes follow me around like one of those portrait paintings in a haunted castle. Perry was a Giants pitcher from the ’60s who was notorious for doctoring baseballs.

Liked this? Tell me what you think below!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.