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 |  Flash fiction stories... |
| The old man dried the remaining glasses and returned them to their place. The bar had been empty all night. Tonight was his last shift as a bartender. Would anyone notice him gone? Tomorrow his son would move him to the assisted living place down the street. Just thinking about that cold, sterile institution made him angry. He had a lovely home in the historic downtown square. The old man thought he could get by with a little extra help, but his son disagreed, and now his home would be sold. He shut off the coffee maker and was about to throw out the remaining brew when the door opened, and the wind blew in an old woman. She was thin and rosy-cheeked, with long, curly silver hair. She sat at the bar without a word, and the old man poured the last of the coffee into a cup for her. She smiled and nodded as she took a sip. “Thanks.” “Welcome.” His heart nervously waltzed to an unheard song. Was he dying? Should he call someone? She looked up at him and set her cup down. She jingled a strange plastic bracelet with a blinking light on it and grinned mischievously. “They’ll be here soon.” She slid off the stool and went to the door. He tried to stop her, he had so many questions. Soon, a van pulled up outside and a young lady got out and helped her inside. The van had a familiar logo, and he nearly cried when he recognized it. He smiled. It would be nice to have a friend at his new home. A friend with curly silver hair who enjoyed black coffee and sneaking off for walks in the dead of night. ~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~ Winner!!! |
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