An Inspiring Very Short Fiction Tale
Ted looked out at the ice cream truck turning down on to his street, its arrival foretold by its characteristic music some minutes before. The first child burst from the nearby house shrilly screaming at the top of her small lungs, “Ice Cream!!!!” and Ted smiled at fond memories of the decades old Eddie Murphy stand-up routine ( “you don’t get no ice cream, your mama is on da welfare and your daddy is an alcoholic” ). Of course, that DVD had long since been donated to the thrift store, the current wife having a no compromise rule against any profanity. Or blasphemy, especially that. Not that Ted had many complaints. He was lucky to have her, and she had probably needed divine intervention to see past his many flaws and recognize any potential in his then wayward propensities. He certainly wasn’t going to argue about her insistence he give up his womanizing and drunkenness. The several times a week church going was a bit more than he liked, but he did have to admit it helped keep the Devil farther from his thoughts. And personal demons. He had at first been opposed to moving out here in the middle of nowhere. Visiting his brother was fine for the fresh air and fishing, but he was city born and raised and was what he was used to. But with his sister in law trying to hook him up with Mary and his brother putting a good word in the ear of his ( now their ) employer, it was inevitable this would become his new home.
He didn’t mind the new digs and even though he at first missed the urban life, this place was growing on him. And since he still subscribed to the metro paper, he kept up with the insane increases in crime and taxes and regulations. He didn’t miss that aspect of his old life. He actually felt at peace now, both in his home and with his neighbors. Life was good. He even was beginning to relish his wife’s weird thing about stockpiling for the Apocalypse. He didn’t think they’d have to go grocery shopping for years with all the crap she was stuffing in every nook and cranny. That gave him a unique feeling of security. Not like the city where food was for sale everywhere 24 hours a day, but only for those with money. You never got off the treadmill lusting after money. Now, he wasn’t anxious over either one. And he was also liking the open pistol carry at all times she insisted on. It was another new and novel feeling of security. Hell, life WAS good and an ice cream sure seemed like the way to celebrate. The kids didn’t need him as a guard, hell- every parent let the kids go their own way in such a small town. But every adult kept an eye out on them anyway, just as a matter of course. Ted got to the still blaring truck as the line of little ones was mostly dispersed.
Just as he was about to order a sherbet, the truck disintegrated in a fiery bomb blast.
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Sucks to die for sherbet. He should have at least ordered something with chocolate.ReplyDelete
I love sherbet-kicks chocolates ass every time.Delete
Good one, thanks! Now that you've got the fiction ball rolling, what are the chances of you favoring us loyal minions with a few more chapters of Loco Gringos?ReplyDelete
I was looking for my Kindle protective cover for months-just found it, and I won't use the device without it. So now I can convert my chapters over to it and read the last few chapters to figure out what the hell I was writing about and THEN I will continue writing. So convoluted. Actually, I mainly reread a few chapters to get back in the style of writing since it is slightly different than non-fiction. I don't even really need it on Kindle- I might have been using that as an excuse. Course, now I'm hitting an idea slump so it is looking more attractive to get off my ass and put in the effort.Delete
Odd that they would wait to blow the truck when the kids were already done, I thought for sure it would be right after he got in line before most of the kids got very far away. At least if it were terrorism. If instead it was an expensive way to take Ted out, for what ever reason, it was pretty expensive.ReplyDelete