Flash Fiction |
Learning the Job “Walking home from downtown, as I do every week, I found my normal route had been blocked off. Apparently, a water pipe broke, and they closed the block while they were repairing it, even to foot traffic. Not a big deal, but certainly inconvenient. The block that you had to take to get around was more residential than towny. It had a couple shops near the beginning, but then homes, old homes obviously, big and, to me, ostentatious. On the far side, there was one house behind a large stone wall. I couldn’t even see the house until I got to the gate. Peeking in, between the slats, there it was, quite a surprise! The house was actually very small. The sidewalk leading up to it was almost as large as the front side of the house! The house itself, square, a soft white, and all the windows shuttered. I unconsciously walked up the walk before I realized that I was probably trespassing. But before I could turn around, I heard a voice, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I whipped around, but all I could see behind me was a flower bed on each side of the wall, and a small brown rabbit sitting next to the sidewalk. “Who said that!” I said, sternly, I don’t like people playing with me! The rabbit raised his paw, scowling, I swear, and said ‘Me!!’ I fled!” “Miss Clifford, let us give you a ride home,” said the officer, opening the door to the patrol car. “Oh,” she said, “That would be lovely!” Later, in the police car. “She does this every week?” “Mostly, but always a different story, you’ll get used to it. She just wants a ride.” “Why don’t you bring her in?” “She’s the Mayor’s mother…” “Oh. Got it…” |