Flash Fiction: The Mailbox

The death march to bataan otherwise known as the walk to my mailbox. It stares at me when I leave in the morning and when I return at night. I try to put it off for as long as I can but after a week, I get home and envelopes are sticking out every which way. Today I decide to wait until I get home. There’s enough fear and loathing in that God forsaken grey world of XXXX customer service department. Sorry, I’d probably get sued mentioning their name. “You better watch your ass Bob, this economy is bad and you don’t want to lose your job for being late do you?” Simon my “supervisor” then laughed heartily and slapped me on my back with his red, plumb, damp hands. I think I was about three and a half minutes late and that was because some idiot decided to run into a brick wall embankment and held me up over 2 hours in Atlanta traffic. I hope his head fell off. I usually leave the house hoping for only an hour traffic and I go have breakfast, relax before I have to deal with those “wonderful” customers. But here I am giving the evil eye to the unassuming wood and metal object. The wife’s home with little Will, my pride and joy. I think they are inside watching the sprout channel or something along those lines. I really don’t know anymore. All I do is sit up at night wondering how much longer we have here. I swallow the bile that had started to rise up in my throat,...

#friday flash : Coming Home

The Bus pulled up to the Greyhound station at one twenty two in the morning. Betty his wife was standing in the corner of the station huddled in the red and white bomber jacket he gave her two years before. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, it seemed unreal that it was actually here. Stepping down the stairs of the bus, he inhaled deeply. The familiar smells of home filled him with comfort, safety. The small town he’d grown up in was still the same. Everyone and everything around him was still the same. He put the smile he felt, on his face and walked to his beloved Betty. When Betty saw Robert, she couldn’t contain herself. On the way to the greyhound station, she told herself she wouldn’t cause a scene. She would wait until they got home before she jumped all over him. She would wait until they were behind closed doors to show him how much she missed him. Those things should be done in private after all. All of her planning went out the window when she saw Robert. His day old beard cast a shadow on his slim face. His dark brown eyes, as bright as she’d always remembered them. The dimples that marked only his left cheek greeted her and that did it. She hauled her five foot five frame at her husband. Dodging the few patrons that lingered around the station, not caring if anyone saw or felt her excitement. She reached Robert and threw herself into his arms and held on for dear life. Her eyes closed instinctively...

#fridayflash Trying On Life

“Does this make my butt look big?” Asked Lani. Lani had her back to the dressing room mirror as she stuck her butt out and turned around to try and look at her derriere in the mirror. The green stretch pants wrapped her body and she looked at her shape and the fit, pleased with herself. I giggled. Of course your butt looks big, I don’t know why you’re acting like you don’t know the answer to that. “Yes” was all I said. I started scrolling through my email messages on my iphone while Lani continued to slowly shake her butt from side to side to get the full view of her more than ample hind part. I have been with Lani all day as we hop from store to store trying on and buying tons of clothes. For her that is. I am there for advice and as a clothes rack. “Sophie, hand me that yellow top. I’m going to see how it looks with these green pants” Said Lani. I followed the arc of her hands to see what yellow shirt she was talking about. “Lani, you have 3 different yellow shirts, which one do you want? I can’t read your mind you know” I replied. Lani dropped her hands then placed them on her hips. She cocked her head to her right side and started at me with a look of disbelief on her face. “Use your head girl, the yellow top with the green shimmer logo on the front. The Channel shirt dodo head.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror. Lani...

Flash Fiction: 8 Minutes

It’s too hot to play outside, thought Anna as she sat on the ground in the backyard of her house. Her Grandmother was busy hanging just washed clothes to dry on the line that went all the way from the house to a tree about 30 feet away. 8 year old Anna bent down to watch an army of Ants scurry out of a ant hole the size of a golf ball. After losing herself in the order and civility of the march of the ants, Anna sprang up and started walking to the edge of the yard. “Nana, I’m going over to play with Sammy OK?” It was a question and a statement at the same time. “Be Careful, If no one is there come right back, Yuh hear?” Also said as a question and a statement. It occurred to Anna that Nana did not say, “tell Mrs. Johnson I said howdy,” no “call to Mrs. Johnson for me and tell her I’ll talk to her soon”. No, hello messages. At least Nana let her go and didn’t try to stop her, Anna thought. No one in the neighborhood liked Mrs. Johnson. Anna didn’t know why, but she also didn’t concern herself with those small details either. “Yes Nana” Anna said as she made her way through the overgrown dirt path that led to her neighbors house. The path wasn’t used much so Anna had to carefully trudge through the overgrown grass and trees that blocked her way. Her matching yellow tank top and short shorts kept snagging on the branches and trees as she made her way....