A Little Sense

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Were you born with your inner deformities?

He didn't make much sense, muttering wildly about the devils plans, his hands motioning in the air around him. His brown coat was old and had holes in it, he had infected wounds on his hand, and his hair was dirty and unkept. A lowly hand had gripped me, so I sat down on the side walk to watch and listen to him. He told me he had been a philosophy professor once, that he had a family and children. He stopped between sentances to peer around us quickly eyes wide, just incase someone was listening. He told me he left his house in the rain to get a packet of cigarettes.

'My wife is the reason for me, but car was the reason- the scar,' he said, tapping the side of his head.

He had missing hair there, as if it had been shaved, and a long pink line was there on his skin, jagged and wide. He told me he couldn't remember what the fight was about, but he always had a temper. Being a proffessor and academic in a world such as this one has any soul bound by stress. He sat down next to me, and told me to listen carefully.

'Never be angry with your life,' he said. 'Your not broken yet.' He pulled my lower eyelids down and peered into my eyes like he was trying to find something. I lightly pulled away, and he started his story without pause.


'Then leave,' his auburn haired wife had said, standing further away arms crossed over chest. 

He slammed his mug down so hard it had smashed, the scent of coffee spreading into the room. He turned around to the door, only stopping to grab his coat from the rack. It was a heavy rain that night, water pounding on the road and pavement, the lights barely visible in the distance. It was the kind of rain that was white like fog, the kind that releases everything into obscurity. "It was the devils plan," he told me. He crossed the road to the little 7-eleven where he asked the older woman for Marlboro cigarettes. She stared up at him through the heavy black surrounding her eyelids, before popping her gum and offering him a smile. "Have a nice night," she had said. He was drunk and trying to light the cigarette under shade of the store outside, and with some light success he started making his way home in the rain. He was in a fret and trying to put his wallet inside of his pocket when his black lighter had fallen with his receipt. He hadn't noticed until he'd reached the other side of the road. Walking back to get it
he was mumbling to himself, until he noticed a light in the distace, an odd sort of light. He peered through the rain in his eyes as if he were in a daze. He hadn't realised they were headlights until gravity went away. He remembered feeling like he was falling from a great height, his body was numb and limber falling through the wet. Everything had gone black, and when he woke up again everything was white and bright. 

'There were black splinters, thats how I knew,' he said erratically, standing up. 'Ever since then theres been bugs crawling inside my skull, thats what it is I tell you.' He stopped talking to tilt his head and slap over one ear like his head was a ketchup bottle that was almost empty. 

I fubled through my bag to find the sandwich I had brought with me. 'Im hungry, do you think you want to share this with me,' I asked. My distraction worked and he sat down next to me once more, eating the slice quite quickly. 'So how did you end up out here,' I asked knowingly.

He failed to wipe all of the crumbs off his lips as some sneaked their way through his beard. 'People don't see me any more, im invisible. But sometimes I come into flesh again, like today to meet you! People dont like me, but your okay dear.' He gave me a smile that reached his eyes.

'Well maybe i'll come past again some day,' I said smiling. "Some of us do," I thought. 


Submitted: February 11, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Flambe. All rights reserved.

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