Category: Friday Fiction

by Smitty

He looked at the picture, staring forward at his grown self. He glanced at his watch, seated at international arrivals. Sign said she’d arrived.
He and his sister had been fortunate to be taken in by an orphanage shortly after the picture. He’d lost her not long after his adoption.
They had sought each other in the intervening decades. Thanks to the power of the internet, they’d made contact.
She’d never left Croatia, it turned out. His engineering job was good enough to bring her to Boston, hopefully for good.
Cleared customs.
Doors opened.
Eyes met.
Years fell.
Tears flowed.
—
Thanks, Darleen!

by Smitty

Dad’s absence hung in the air like a cloud obscuring the sun on an otherwise glorious day. Halfway through the annual fishing trip, Grandpa had changed.

Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. “Is it Daddy?” she ventured. Grandpa staggered visibly.

“He won’t be back from Syria, honey.”

“Mom and Grandma last year in the car wreck, now Daddy in the war? Grandpa, YOU’RE ALL I HAVE LEFT!” she wailed, dropping her pole.

He dropped his and moved to hug her. “Oh honey. We have to get ahold of your Aunt Jenny. You see, the doctor called, and it’s cancer.”
—
Thanks, Darlene!

by Smitty

Looked like his car pulling up, headlights affording the room a sunburst before they grew more interested in the driveway.
She took a drag on her “medicinal” cigarette holder, pulling the smoke into her lungs deeply, glad for the source of calmness.
The motor stopped. The car door slammed. The gravel proclaimed each proud step toward the dark porch. The keyhole announced its violation, and the door opened on smooth hinges.
“Jasmine!?!?”
Her cue to cock the little .38 revolver that was all she had to say to him.
He burst into the study.
“There you are, you–”
She finalized him.

—
Thanks, Darleen

by Smitty

Joe & Rose had done thousands of shows. A living.

Of a sweltering day, they were approaching a “dangerous” point, when “Dracalcoatl, the Blood-Drinking Vampire Snake” would appear to be about to fang Rose’s helpless throat. Of course, “D” was out of range; the tension delivered by illusion.

Until Sparky in the front row let fly with a slingshot round, the steel ball grazing the snake’s head and hitting Joe in the windpipe.
Rose came up; “D” came down; her passing was mercifully brief.

Sparky, acquitted for manslaughter, subsequently had a “David/Goliath Show”, giving most of his wages to the surviors.

—
Thanks, Darleen!

by Smitty

“Synechdoche.”

“YES!!!?!” her rant not even slightly paused by the rhetorical term. “I TELL YOU MY CHILDHOOD DREAM OF OWNING A THRESHOLD OPENING ONTO A BREATHTAKING VIEW, AND YOU BLOW MILLIONS OF DOLLARS ON THIS?”
“It seemed like a pretty good gag at the time.”
“YOU STUPID FOOL! I should force you to live here until you just die of exposure. For years I’ve tolerated your feeble attempts at making me happy. Now you’ve wasted so much money that I’m going to be forced to move into one of those high-rise Trump slums in New York City.”
“You said ‘die’?”
—
Thanks, Darleen

by Smitty

“Sometimes you’re the dog; sometimes you’re the fire hydrant,” mused R.

“Yep. Shifting elements, sometimes you’re on fire; sometimes the hydrant doesn’t put out,” replied B.
They sat in the dim bar so far out in Georgetown that it was more like Bethesda.
“I have literally no idea what to do next. It’s like asking: how would you fix some bombed-out variation of Venezuela,” moaned R.
“I’m reminded of that Jack Kirkpatrick line in Airplane! ‘. . .they bought their tickets, they knew what they were getting into. I say, let ’em crash.'” snarled B.
The Russian timed his selection beautifully.
—
Thanks, Darleen!

by Smitty

The three oppressors stood between her and Union Station. Apart from being her older “sisters”, there was no Cinderella resemblance.
“Where do you think you’re going?” snarled Nancy, the oldest, as they closed.
She strode.
“Well?” echoed Barbara, as they closed.
Her fists clenched.
“Answer us!” screamed Dianne.
And she did, with roundhouse pump to the head that took all of them out, and would’ve earned an awed look from a very young Chuck Norris, had he been available.
She stepped over Barbara’s groaning body, and just kept going.
No glass slipper; no Prince Charming; but still: her destiny beckoned.

* * *

Thanks, Darleen!

by Smitty

Dear Mom & Dad,
I knew you wouldn’t approve, so I didn’t ask. I’m going to the Big City. Boise.
Don’t blame yourselves. You are wonderful parents. I wouldn’t’ve had the money for the bus ticket if you weren’t so good at teaching a girl how to raise hogs.
I’ve got a roommate and a job lined up. I’ll see about school this fall. I know the money situation, so I won’t ask.
Brian is going to take it hard. I don’t hate him, but just wasn’t going to be happy on the farm.
Love,
Joeanna

P.S.: I remembered my Bible.

via Darleen