What Killed Him at Matchpoint

(Haven't been on for awhile. I haven't had a lot of time to write lately. Fortunately I wrote this, which I'm adding to my flash fiction collection)

The box of matches is weathered; two years old at the most. It hasn't been used since the last family campout at Yosemite.

Leon's hands, worn from bad parenting and middle age, cradle the box. He pulls open the container to reveal red and white sticks, untouched. Pruny fingers reach down and clasp the end of one, unidentifiable.

He looks around his workshop, where he spent days sawing plywood, measuring oak and skinning bark for a majestic grandfather clock. Lumber is stacked from the stingy tile below his feet to the wood-paneled ceiling.

His fingers stumble as he strikes the match on the rough side of the matchbook. It fails to light.

Leon stratches the scruff on his chin and sighs. Finally, he swipes the match swiftly across the gooseflesh.

Flames reflect in Leon's eyes.

He throws the match in a pile of kindling and watches smoke plumes rise up..

(So...Comment? Like? By the way, thanks for reading! ;D )

Hi, I'm Bella, and I shall be (more or less) reviewing your short story

So I honestly have nothing bad to say.

Grammar was good, punctuation and spelling were great (those are always the first things I look for, I'm a bit of a grammar nazi).

I loved the amount of detail you included, which I guess is a necessity for such a short scene.

By the way, I was also pleased with the fact that you posted such a short piece. I haven't seen that on here yet. But then again, I am still fairly new, I guess.

Overall, very interesting! Glad I could read it.

~Bella

The box of matches is weathered; two years old at the most.

The semicolon is inappropriate here. Semicolons connect two independent clauses; the second half of this sentence is a dependent clause.

It hasn't been used since the last family campout at Yosemite.

I stumbled over this sentence. It strikes me as a bit overly-long/awkwardly phrased, but I can't think of any suggestions.

He pulls open the container to reveal red and white sticks, untouched. Pruny fingers reach down and clasp the end of one, unidentifiable.

Sentence, random descriptor word. Kill the random descriptor word. It serves no purpose, and "unidentifiable" actually had me going "blech" as I have no clue how an end could be unidentifiable.

Description is fine and all, but like poetry, flash fiction requires special care with word choice. Each word must contribute substantially to the piece, otherwise it detracts from it. And right now, "untouched" and "unidentifiable" are detracting.

Lumber is stacked from the stingy tile below his feet to the wood-paneled ceiling.

How can tile be stingy?

Finally, he swipes the match swiftly across the gooseflesh.

Gooseflesh =/= stubble. Gooseflesh is what happens when your skin gets cold and raises into little bumps, and it is not stiff or abrasive enough to strike a match on.

Also, if you fail to strike a match the first time, odds are you won't be able to strike it again as the phosphorous-based coating will have been scraped off. Without that coating, the friction of striking won't generate enough heat to ignite the match.

He throws the match in a pile of kindling and watches smoke plumes rise up..

You can't just toss a match into a pile of kindling to get a fire. Fires take time and patience to start, and even longer to get going, even if you have all the right conditions.

Also, I'm not sure what you were trying to do with the end punctuation there. Either you have an extra period, or are missing one. In either case, I think that just a period would be best as ending with ellipses strikes me as too melodramatic.

Overall, you have an excellent title and an interesting premise, but you have some misused words scattered throughout in addition to some factual incongruities, and they seriously detracted from this piece.