Category: Flash Fiction

Breathe in, breath out. Day in and out.

Work was mind-numbing. But he couldn’t complain. It was his life, his duty. As a responsible adult and a devoted family man, he had to fend for those who depended on him.

It wasn’t satisfying, but it didn’t have to be. However late they paid the bills. Though thatched, they had a roof over their heads, and regardless of shabbiness, they had clothes.

Nevertheless, each day was painful for the body and soul—with torturous commutes, tormenting communes, terrifying consequences, and terrible conditions. Not only did he haul stones at a construction site, but also the lives of three toddlers.

Service

Though face be the index of the mind, she’d trained never to betray herself—mind or emotion.

Practising every day for 12 years, she altered 25 years’ habits. No one else had achieved that feat, and she—as deserved to—prided herself as the most successful student.

The rest of her batchmates remained while she advanced. Every step of the away, she grew more confident and assertive. Taking on responsibilities she’d never dreamt of before, Lisa became a model for the academy.

Years after serving in the frontline, she looked back one day. With none to call hers, the soldier retired friendless.

Cost of comfort

The residents uphill would always remember Marcus as a strong and capable fellow. Not only did he possess the charm to attracted followers, but also the passion to serve.

He’d grown up insufficient, his family dabbling in poverty. That, he often said, helped him define his priorities. When he first assumed office, he’d assumed to provide for those who trusted him. It was his duty.

No one foresaw the years that followed. From being confident and enthusiastic, Marcus evolved. Processions and possessions weighed him down. Routines and meetings disrupted his dreams.

Soon, he’d become the laziest ant on the hill.

Just because

Richard Davis snorted.

The means didn’t matter as long as he achieved what he wanted. He wasn’t going to pass up on this opportunity.

In fact, he reasoned making notes in his scrawly schoolboy handwriting, aliens don’t belong here. We’d be wasting our resources catering to them.  We have enough problems already without those ugly miscreants, too.

Smooth talker Richard had no difficulty swaying members of the ministry. He became the first official to propose and pass the law that denied livelihood to thousands of foreign workers.

“Well, gentlemen, they’re a hazard to local employment,” he’d declared.

Richard hated brown.

Coming to terms

“C’mon, just a little bit…” she cooed.

“Get it away from me, will you? I hate that stuff.”

Fooling his sister was easy enough, but just the thought of keeping it up forever nauseated him.

As Julia jabbed her brush at him yet again, he snapped. Grabbing her brush, he cracked it like a twig. “Just drop it,” he yelled, making her storm out in protest to tell on him.

Alone, Mike turned to the mirror. He picked up the smaller end of the broken brush and tried on the blush that lingered on the bristles.

It wasn’t so bad.