Flash fiction stories... |
Kevin walked to the front of the class to read his report on what he did over summer vacation. He knew that few would believe it, but every word was true. The seventeen-year-old took his position behind the podium and laid out his handwritten account of the worst summer he’d ever experienced. After clearing his throat, he began to relive the nightmare. “The prison routine was the worst. People telling you when to eat, when to use the bathroom, when to use the water fountain. The building was too small, hundreds of sweaty bodies crammed together like cattle. “ Kevin stopped reading and looked at his classmates. They stared at him confused, his teacher, too had a look of surprise. Then, Sam, Kevin’s best friend raised his hand to speak. Without waiting to be called on he replied. “Hold up. Didn’t you work at Walmart this summer?” The teacher swiped the report from the podium and tossed it on her desk. “Sit down, Kevin, and stop being so dramatic.” Kevin returned to his desk, head low. They didn’t even let him read about the horrible blue vests that everyone had to wear and the hours upon hours he was forced to spend folding towels in the housewares department. Kevin pulled the harmonica he’d bartered for in prison out of his pocket, and played a melancholy yet poignant melody. Would nobody ever understand the troubles he’d seen? |