Flash Fiction |
You got that right... “That’s exactly your problem.” “What?” “You think you are so smart.” “What do you mean?” “Whenever there’s an issue you assume that you’re right, and you take off trying to explain it to the rest of us as if we’re idiots.” “I hardly do that...” “Yes, you do, you probably don’t notice because nobody does it to you.” “Because I’m right.” “No. Sometimes you are right, other times most people are too polite to tell you you’re wrong.” “Oh really... when exactly was I wrong?” “How about right now.” “Why would I, I’m right.” “No you’re not. The fact is that Mr. Denton is going to arrive in the next few minutes and he will know exactly what happened to the window. If we tell him a bird flew into it we will all get detention. Not for the broken window, but for lying.” “How would he know it wasn’t a bird?” “Because it would take a bird that weighed at least eleven pounds to have flown into this window, at, at least five miles an hour, to break it. And then there would be feathers everywhere and a dead bird on the ground.” “Well maybe it survived and it had strong feathers and got away!” “Ok, let’s say you pull that off, how do you explain Mr. Denton’s football trophy out there on the ground?” “Crap! Can you see it from here?” “No, because it’s in Mr. Denton’s hand right now,” he pointed to the large window to the hall where you could see Mr. Denton walking up fast, his trophy in his hand. “Crap,” said Alex. “You got that one right,” Jeff said, and did you know Mr. Denton has a fingerprint kit? I bet your prints are all over that thing.” “Double crap.” “You got that right...” |