But then one day I was hit by the power of a short scene – without a prelude, a background, with only a hint of the future. It is not less immersive, perhaps even more, because it is in a sense undiluted action and emotion. It is at times hellishly hard to make the scene clear, especially in science fiction, when you need more brush strokes to ground the reader. But it is more satisfying when it works.

And it is an amazing way to preserve all the ideas of the thousands magical things that come into my head. There is always a possibility that I will write more about that world someday. Or, maybe, I will leave the reader with just a cut of the protagonist’s life – like a short reel or a picture on Instagram. Or a very vivid dream, which you did not see till the end. When I think of the conglomeration my flash fiction can become one day, I have a strong visual image – that of a photographer’s portfolio with thumb icons of myriads of shots they made. Sometimes a big picture equals a diverse collage of many small images. Sometimes a reading experience is a snowstorm and you catch one fluffy snowflake to examine its pattern.