Eighteen Months

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Entry for the Booksie Spring 2017 Flash Fiction Contest. I hope you all like it! Thank you for reading! Word count: 200.

Submitted: May 25, 2017

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Submitted: May 25, 2017

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"Why are you being like this, Wayne?" she asks me, highly aggravated.

"Well. Well, I think you, um, you need to, not get over some things exactly. But, just, um, move forward. I'm just trying to help," I say.

"Help? By telling me, what? That I need to grow up or something?" She glowers at me.

"That, that, that's not what I'm saying. I just-"

"Just what? Making me feel like garbage for being depressed? Hm?"

"No, Anne. It's just," I start. But, stop with a big sigh. "It's just that it's been eighteen months now."

"You sit there in your succulent t-shirt, and tell me I need to move on. Like I should be ready." She's whisper-yelling across the table. She screams, loudly this time, "Like how I just shouldn't care!"

"No," I start, but she cuts me off again.

Well, maybe you just don't care. Hm? Ever think of that one!?"

"Anne, that's," I start, but, again, she cuts me off.

"I just can't believe you!"

"She was my mom too, Anne! God damn it!" I yell, slamming the table. My eyes water. She's left in a gasp. The whole coffee shop is now silent and staring.


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