Tiny Stories, part 7

June 20th, 2011

More fiction that fits in a single tweet.

In the elm outside his window, a mockingbird cycled through a dozen bird calls without ever using its own. He could identify.

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Of course he was a gentleman about it. He was always a gentleman about things. Which was itself part of their problem.

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That woman, in those jeans, made him think of the first time his high school girlfriend played “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” for him.

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What kind of barrier was 6,000 miles and an ocean when faced with the combined power of Twitter and true love?

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Resisting plastic surgery, she bore a dowager’s regal face. But years of tennis & sunscreen had given her the legs of a teenager.

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Calls went unanswered, e-mails unread. He sat through meetings without ever looking up. He could only think of what he had lost.

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“Oops.” *

~ ~ ~

When he listened to that song, he thought of the wrong woman.

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She called him “sweet.” He liked that, but wished she’d believe he had a salty side.

~ ~ ~

His confidence was like the wax in Icarus’ wings. Her incandescent good looks were like the sunshine.

~

* My daughter wrote that one.

~

Previously:

Image by JD Hancock.

One Response to “Tiny Stories, part 7”

  1. What I've Learned So Far » Blog Archive » Tiny Stories, Part 8 Says:

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