Yet

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Hmm.

Submitted: August 09, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2018

A A A

A A A


Andy took another sip, then another, and on the third he was sure he felt something, anything. Hope maybe, a sliver of it at least, that he'd found a cure. Liquid gold, courage, happiness--that's how his uncles described it. He still felt terrified of spiders though, he knew he'd squeal like his six year old niece if one presented in front of him and there was no courage in that. He didn't feel rich, and as for happiness, well, he wasn't quite sure what that felt like anyway. 

Another sip. What was life like for cowboys, he wondered, trotting across open land, hunting, spinning guns, taking towns; what a life, what freedom. He wondered if freedom tasted anything like ice cream: sweet, creamy, thick, and cold enough to strike some awareness into the soul. 

A fifth sip, a sixth, a seventh. Did he feel anything yet? 


© Copyright 2018 A.D. Ware. All rights reserved.

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