Category: Flash Fiction

Face value

“Wow!”

Applause broke out as the poet bowed, concluding his recital. Appreciation rang across the auditorium shoving excitement down his spine. How long he’d awaited this.

“He seems so conversant with the realities of poor kids in third world countries. He’s done his home work well, I should say,” the director of Save our Souls gestured at the telecast on TV. “Perhaps he should be our ambassador.” She raised her eyebrows at her husband, the investor.

The poet went home to his six children. Children he’d rescued from Save our Souls, an organisation that raised funds by starving the starved.

The determinant

“You’ve been up all night?” Asked Andrew. “You don’t have to work so hard, you know.” Esther’s colleague had popped into her workspace with his chai latte. She didn’t reply right away. She was focussed on the micro organisms, and trying to discern a behavioural pattern.

“Well, it’s my job, Andrew.” She replied tearing her tired eyes from the microscope and rubbing them with her fingers. “But you’re right, I should get home. See what the kids are up to.”

“Damn straight I’m right.” Andrew bobbed his head raising his latte as a gesture to her.

“You’re a single mom, you don’t have to hustle so much. Why don’t you get your ex-husband to split finances with you? You’re raising the kids, and it’s only fair that he does his duty as father and man.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Esther raised her eyebrows at Andrew. She was tired, but not unstable. She knew what he hinted at.

“Well, it’s the man’s duty to bring home the money. You don’t have to.” He shrugged. Esther’s expression hardened. Andrew didn’t realise what he was saying.

“I’m a scientist, Andrew. I won’t compromise my duty just because I’m a woman.”

Outsourced

“Five-year warranty? Nah, two’s good.”

“This is wrong… Why d’you do this? It’s not even a big margin.”

“Every little counts, Mark. Besides, this is good enough for those rubes.”

Roadways contractor Billy clapped his hands, excited. Eyes aglow, he gestured at his long-time assistant to seal the deal. It wasn’t the first time he’d chosen affordability over durability. He didn’t bother, either. Because if the National Freeway he builds now caved two years later due to low quality, he wouldn’t be answerable.

Within five years, he’d saved millions from state funds. All locked in a safe in his name.

Master of none

“Carl! How’re ya?”

Carl looked up “Hi, Mark. All good, tha — ”

“Quick favour. Can you conjour up a poster for us? Nothing too fancy—we’re organising a last-minute event, and need designs ASAP.”

Carl sent the memo he’d been proofreading for Jason, and then turned to Mark smiling. “Sure. I’ll be happy — ”

“Cheers, life saver. Drinks on me, Friday!”

Carl had spent the morning proofreading his team mates’ work, before tackling Jason’s memo. It took him all evening — amidst discussions, brainstorming sessions, and distractions—to finish Mark’s designs.

By 7, he’d done everyone’s job but his.

Tomorrow, perhaps.

*Ping* “u thr?”

Minimalising

Pete ignored the skeptical stares as he dropped off his fifth bag of trash. He’d no longer hold onto things he thought mattered.

For the first time since his nasty breakup four years ago, he realised he’d never been happy. He earned and travelled well devouring authenticity everywhere, yet something always held him back.

Wanting to simplify life, he cast out letters and cards, his journals, souvenirs, fancy linen now out of style, clothes he’s never worn — everything he’d acquired to fill the gap Sandra had left.

A minimal house had changed nothing. He still couldn’t let her go.