Flash Fiction 2019-20
by naz p
as she was watering her plants the sound of the doorbell ringing startled
her. this caused her to spill the water all over her carpet floor.
she sighs… “damnit.” and is clearly irritated that her routine of watering her
near-death plants at 5 AM, was interrupted by an unscheduled visitor.
looking down at her carpet, she decides there is no point in cleaning it up,
who’s going to see it anyways?
and so she proceeds to walk to the door. her steps are quick and her heels
make a click, click, click. it was slightly humorous to see a woman like her, short and small and in her fitted grey pantsuit, taking small quick steps. she quite literally could have been perceived to be a woman on a mission.
she reaches the door, ready to “greet” the person on the other side with a
glare. her hand goes to twist the knobbly gold doorknob. I need to get that fixed, Wednesday should be fine she thinks to herself, her hand still on the doorknob.
the doorbell rings again, bringing her back to the present and returning the glare to her face.
she opens the door expecting to be met with her plain apartment hallway
but is met with the stars, closer to her than they should be. she feels as though she can touch them if she were to reach her hand out.
while she was trying to grasp the beauty of the night sky, chaos erupts in her
apartment. her book shelves fall to the ground, all the dishes that needed to be washed, rose and crashed to the ground. then her own air was sucked from out of her lungs and all around her into the stars.
everything disappears and nothing is left except for the stars.
it happened on Tuesday.
It Cannot be Dirty
by Stephany Urbina
It was a gift from Nana. Swimming in his circular tank of water, the fish was clumsy, fat, and orange. It was the only orange thing in his simple apartment, with white walls and white furniture. Just as he liked it. Only this time, his home was infested with the presence of a slimy, dirty fish. Before leaving into his bedroom he stopped and looked down at the fish “You will only disturb the cleanliness in this apartment,” he said while tapping the clear glass. He walked away grumbling, swept his white marble floors, and just like that, he tried to fall asleep. There were usually little things that he did before going to sleep. He forgot to wipe a stain off the glass window, one of his shirts need ironing, or his room wasn’t the right temperature. When these problems occurred, the solutions were simple. Get up, fix the wrong, admire the clean home, go back to sleep. This night was nothing compared to the rest. Something was making his home dirty. “It’s that clumsy fish. It has to be...it cannot be dirty!” he whispered to himself. In the living room, the fish swam. Its orange gills extended towards the man as he slept. The man found himself drowning in fish food. Smelly, dirty fish food. The sweat on his body didn’t make anything better. When did he ever sweat? He was in desperate need of a shower. Breathing heavily, the man got up from bed. His hair was plastered with sweat, his room was a disaster. Without thinking, he stuck his hand into the tank. The fish was caught between the man’s fingers, left no form of escape. Laughing, he stepped into the bathroom and grinned at fish. He let it slip from its fingers. The fish plopped into the toilet, splashing water all over the man’s face. Overcome with excitement, the man paid no attention to the water. He flushed the toilet and said goodbye to the fish. Before heading back into bed, the man washed his face three times. “It is clean now,” he said smiling. Repeating his nightly routine, the man got up, fixed the wrong, admired his clean home, and went back to sleep. That night, the man slept in comfort. His home was quiet, clean, and lonely… just as he liked it.