Question ?

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

Short, but not telling; mystery and a question.



Flash Fiction

Nicholas Cochran


At first glance, Kenny thought it was a small fox, or maybe a coyote. He did live close to the National Preserve. Kenny sighted up his Pentax and started shooting. Maybe the animal heard the clicking of the shutter; maybe Kenny smelled too dangerous. Whatever it was, the animal was into the undergrowth within moments.

Next day, Kenny developed the film from the previous evening. He would use these shots as part of his photography class. Mrs. Jenkins would be thrilled. She was always thrilled by anything Kenny did in—or out of class.

Kenneth Wiley Bates was a tall blond seventeen; Mrs. Jenkins was a tall brunette of thirty-three who didn’t like Mr. Jenkins. At the moment,she felt more than motherly—or teacherly—about Kenny. She was sure she was one of the daily supply of teachers who want to seduce one of their students; in Kenny’s case, the best looking one. She continued to ignore the dangers of tripping down that dicey path. Sure, there was endless orgasmic rapture in store, yet she couldn't get rid of the vision of herself in an orange jumpsuit with cell bars for a view.


Kenny felt the vibe from Janet Jenkins as soon as he entered the school. By the time he reached her classroom, his hormones were in a fugue state. When they were alone in the darkroom to review his photos, he felt a tumescence quickly becoming impossible to keep small.

The first photos were what they both expected; an animal of medium size, mooching along.  The next set of pictures caught the animal as it was exiting right; right into the undergrowth. But wait.

“Wait, Kenny,” putting her hand out to hold his. He held the last photo in the sequence, “what’s that; there; right at the edge; do you have any more shots?” Her voice bled concern.

“Yeah; about six more; but I think there’s no more animal; he was into the woods and gone. I think he smelled me; or heard the camera—or me. But, here, I’ll do them and see.”

The first two of the six revealed a lot of brush and a disappearing tail.

“There,” whispered Janet Jenkins, “there; just behind the middle part of its tail, what is that?” A subtle fear tainted her slow delivery of the question.

Kenny looked, shook his head; and then leaned directly over the third photo.

“Jesus . . . let’s see; whoa; I’ll blow this up. What is that, indeed?”

When they held the blowup of photo number nine in their hands, they immediately recoiled. Staring out at them was the battered but still recognizable face of a corps. The corpse belonged to Mr. Harlan Jenkins, now the late husband of schoolteacher, Janet Jenkins.



Submitted: November 19, 2015

© Copyright 2021 Nicholas Cochran. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Lionel Walfish

This is sooooo good! A thoroughly enjoyable read. What an absolutely great shock ending!
(Don't know if review postings from the old site are transferred to this new site.) So if this is a repeat, I enjoyed it doubly!

Sun, December 13th, 2015 2:37am

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