It Comes With The Job

Harry

Harry - A Flash Fiction Story

Three trips from the car to the storage room. It’s bad enough each load weighed so much, but it was as if everyone who offices in the building was on some secret vacation day. Holiday parties aside, I couldn’t be the only one working.

I fumbled to find the key on my overburden key ring. Finally the door opens. ‘Hi Harry! I thought I was going to spend the day all alone.’ I could tell Harry anything. We had been in the same building for years. I usually would chatter away as if he was interested In everything I think. People would walk by and look at me as if I’m crazy for talking so much. Harry never batted an eye. I thought here we are, stuck at work while the rest of my team was experiencing gift exchanges and merriment.

I finally got the last tub on the shelves. I sang all the Christmas songs I could remember so it made time feel shorter. The room looked better than I found it. I broke a sweat in the process. I turned to see my son standing in the doorway, looking around as if for some alien or invisible being. ‘What?’ He stared back at me, looked around again. ‘Who are you talking to mom?’ I chuckled and introduced him. ‘James this is Harry. Harry this is my son!’

He continued to look oddly at me, then Harry. A long pause while I chatted on some more. Now starring intently at Harry he said ‘Mom, you know he can’t hear you!’ I paused and turned to look at him. ‘He’s not real!’ He continued. ‘Don’t be rude!’ I apologized and shook Harry’s hand being sure to place it on the wheelchair armrest. ‘Have a great weekend!’ I turned off the lights and closed the door.
12/21/19(c)

Merry Christmas?

Flash Fiction - Merry Christmas?


The Christmas tunes seemed to be on a loop. Fairly sure I had heard that song three or four times while creating dinner for six with a one burner stove. It’s making me feel a bit cranky actually!

The burner is only working on high. I can actually feel my eyebrows furrow. And I am thinking unChristmasy thoughts. Like how can golf clubs and fishing equipment be more important than the stove. I shake my head again. I look up and see the pot of brown liquid is already boiling. Adhering to the bottom of the pot large black globs come up with each swirl of the spoon. Nineteen years still haven’t managed to fix the stove. Pondering a good cry....Jingle Bells is playing again. I hate bells.

More puppy pee! Sliding across the kitchen I  nearly dumped the gravy. Frank came around the corner just in time to see me land, gravy boat upright. He cocked his head, whistled and walked away. Why do we have a puppy? Why is the stove dying?

No one was leaving despite the more than two hour delay in dinner. I still think we should have opened gifts while the turkey was in the oven. 116! The degrees to fry an egg on the sidewalk yet 60 degrees shy of safe eating. I start opening cupboards. How expired is unsafe anyway? The freezer is full of nothing but ice pops. Our ‘kid’ is 23. Who lives here anyway?

Pizza boxes stacked on the counter. Plates everywhere. Turkey a brisk 80. Jingle Bells is wrapping up. My sock is wet.

 JLG(C) 1.3.2020

Just Like That

Flash Fiction - Just Like That

George ran through the house at lightning speed chasing his kick ball. It literally was bouncing off the wall. He giggled or cursed depending on where it landed. I yelled several times, reminding him dinner is at risk. Threatened with no dessert, no television, no allowance. All for not. He ran by me tugging my apron strings then kicked it out the back door. He followed with just his socks and shorts on, a full blizzard happening outside. I yell for him to stay in, come back in, put on clothes or at least shoes. His laughter never stops. He is having the time of his life. I shake my head, a subtle smirk starting until I see the dent in the pie. How did I miss that? Oh bother, it is just a ball running away from a boy. I laughed out loud at that thought.

He was as ambitious in school as he was in kick ball. He could run the length of the court faster than any in his class. He would chatter constantly which often caused me to wonder how he was doing with his studies, or better how do his teachers keep him focused on his studies. He had fantastic grades and I was never called to remove him so I figured school boy was more contained than home boy. LOL

He graduated top of his class, his legs nervously shaking as he sat in his seat waiting for his name to be  called. Finally, he was summoned to the podium to receive his diploma, wearing a smile that was ear to ear. And just like that he was gone. His adult life had begun. I was in shock and full of pride all at the same time. He had dreams of being a doctor, lawyer, scientist, athlete, policeman, Wiggle. You name it at one point or another, he had a dream. His future was before him, he was out of my control. As I looked out at the snow, I envisioned him running, jumping, giggling, enjoying his life every second. I missed that.

I stopped and just stared, then tossed my spoon and apron on the counter. I ran outside to play in the fresh snow. Before I knew it I had formed a snowman the size of my beautiful boy when he still let me hug him. He was just able to fit under my chin. I could just wrap my arms around him.

 JLG(c)1.3.3020