General Flash Fiction posted June 13, 2015


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This is a flash fiction story with a 750 word limit.

Evil Died this Morning

by mvbrooks

Evil died this morning.

It didn't make the headlines or morning news shows, but the whole world felt a collective sense something was different at exactly 7:23 am, EST.

John Brightmann was driving his silver Lexus GS in bumper-to-bumper traffic, approaching the George Washington Bridge. He was anxious to grab a coffee before his 8 am meeting. Another car tried to cut into his lane. He'll tell you he doesn't remember doing it, but his foot moved from the gas pedal to the brake in time to let it pass. The other driver smiled, waved, and was gone before John's foot returned to the gas pedal.

Across town at The Coffee Express, Sarah Martin was taking money from the cash drawer, shouting a second coffee order, and glancing at a third customer, keeping the line moving. She was about to dump the money into Dan Meyer's hand when she noticed she was giving him too much change. She quickly re-added his order in her head, coffee and a bagel, and replaced the ten she was about to give him with four single dollar bills and some coins. Sarah was wondering if she'd ever given too much change before when she heard the next customer asking for her chai tea and muffin. More alert now, Sarah rang up that order and carefully counted the change as she gave it to her customer. Then, Sarah did something she hadn't done for months. She looked her customer directly in the eye, smiled, and said, "Thank you. Enjoy your tea." And she meant it.

Sarah carried that smile into her next transaction. When she handed John Brightmann his order and change, he actually smiled back, saying thank you and dropping his change into the tip jar. Then he pulled more coins from his pocket and dropped them into the tip jar as well. She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile or leave a tip before. She'd have to remember to tell her sister Melanie about this when they met up for lunch.

Across town, Melanie was asking Billy, her son, to play with his little sister. Normally, Billy would complain. But today, Billy picked up Emily's favorite Elmo doll, walked over to her, and held it out. Seeing the red creature, Emily smiled and reached for it. Billy actually smiled back and gave Elmo to her without any teasing. He then picked up GI Joe and began planning an invasion for Joe and his team, the teenage ninja turtles. They were going to capture the couch and make the living room safe for democracy.

Billy found Leonardo and Raphael where he'd left them yesterday. Raphael had lost a hand to the neighbor's dog during a valiant battle for the backyard; he was still a willing soldier. Billy put them on the couch with GI Joe, and went to find Donatello and Michelangelo. He looked under the couch, through magazines, he even lifted Emily and looked underneath her.

"Mom, come help me."

His mom was making breakfast. She'd been planning to just pour cereal and milk into their bowls. But the day seemed different, somehow special. She started making chocolate chip pancakes, their favorite.

"I can't come; I'm cooking. What do you need?" She asked.

"I can't find Donatello. Or Michelangelo either. Did you put them someplace?"

She was about to say, "You were supposed to put them someplace," but instead she said, "Maybe Emily can help you find them."

"How can Emily find them?" Billy asked. Frustration traveled with his words.

"I think Emily was playing with them yesterday. Maybe they're visiting her Barbies."

On hearing "Barbies," Billy's hands became tight fists. His breathing came loudly through his nose. His eyes scrunched, and his head titled down.

With heavy steps, Billy moved toward Emily.

At 7:26 am, Billy pushed his three-year-old sister Emily over, grabbed her Elmo, and walked away while she cried.

Their mother called out, "What's the matter with Emily?"

Billy didn't answer. He grabbed her toy, went to his room, and locked Elmo in his closet. Emily had taken Michelangelo and Donatello prisoner and forced them to play with Barbie, so Billy felt fully justified taking Elmo as his prisoner.

At that same moment, John Brightmann's Lexus hit another car when he wouldn't let that driver enter his lane. At the coffee shop, Sarah's customer complained his coffee was too cold and knocked it over, splashing some onto Sarah's no-longer-clean, white shirt.

At 7:26 a, EST, evil was reborn.


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Flash fiction is a relatively new genre for me. It's a challenge to write a complete story in 750 words or less. This is my revision.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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