Flash Fiction 4/3/14

Years on end, society has had the obnoxious, in-your-face, insufferable (actually quite sufferable, but you know what I mean) nerve to ask the same age-old test-of-time-defying question: how are you holding up? Well, frankly dear, do you even want the carefully scripted, societally appropriate answer honed to accomplish both our needs, or can I kill off both our hopes and dreams of inner peace and can I really tell you that upon your encounter I was suddenly re-fabricated as a heap of trash slugging through the Hudson, and you, lovely, may have drug me out before reaching bigger and better things.
Should I assume all that is done, sweetheart?
Because if I were to be this so-called honest, if I were to tell you how I was “holding up,” I’d have to begin by explaining the context: include the immediate scenery, the slant of the graffiti, the blood alcohol content of the nearest sophomore, the ins and outs of weaving in and out of traffic and so on. Now acknowledge this and absorb the deeper level that is infiltrating your thinking- keeps you from holding up, so to speak. Because you may as well blame, if you’re really into blaming such innocuous factors, such as the nitrogen content in the atmosphere, or the rate of dying from secondhand smoke in the US versus…….Narnia, I suppose.
I really want to be honest, I want to share if I even am holding anything at all, or may need assistance in doing so, but it is against social norms as of now, my sweetest. You are not the tip of the iceberg, dear, you are the scorching sun; you are not thirst, darling, you are just not water; and you are not any kind of life preserver, beloved, and you are not holding me up.


Ten Years And A Night

“Ten years,” I gulp, kind of dreading it myself. “I want to see you again in ten years. If we’re still miserable, we’ll be miserable together. But you should probably see if you can be happy without me first.” Dan wipes wet crap off my cheek. Shit. Then he’ll know he can be happy without me, I remind nyself. And I think that’s what I want.

He blows air out his mouth hard, “Ten’s a big number. I don’t want to wait that long. How about five?”

“Don’t try to talk me down like that. In ten years we’ll be different, everything will be different, and maybe we’ll both still be here. It’ll be okay.”

Dan whimpers, “You don’t know that, Annie. We could both be dead tomorrow. Gone. Out. No ten years. Nothing.” He says in a soft voice, a soft satin voice begging.

“I could never have you then, Annie.” He holds me soft by the waist, securing me. “So I’m gonna kiss you and you’re just going to have to deal with it. If you want me to go after, I will. I swear.”

Record This #6

Well, see dear it’s

Not quite all that simple

I’m afraid all this

Holding back and

Letting go


We hurt each other

We may very well hate each other

For awhile

But we’re unfortunately not in a good state to get rid of one another

So we hold back, we do

It’s all we do

All we ever did

Why we never were in the first place

If we ever were

Record This #5

I want the world to be some

Place I can finally call

Home it doesn’t have to be all that pretty

If it could just not bite at me

It seems like every day

Now I’m scared to close my eyes

I might not wake up but then

That might not be so bad

People might even be sad

I just need one person to get me through every day

Everyone knows what I mean

Whether it’s her or him or anything

My, how you are lovely.