She sat there, social as a dead butterfly, bending beer bottle caps in half.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
She paused, ruminated over the words “Miller High Life,” then responded.
“When I can’t do this anymore, I will hang myself.”
“What if you break your fingers?” I said, smirking.
“Then, it will be a loose knot,” she replied, without humor.
I laughed–tried to. I picked up a cap; gave it a squeeze.
“Ouch.” It dropped. We both looked at it, she looked up at me.
I frowned. “I’m not going to hang myself!”
She shrugged, looking rather disappointed.
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Adore♡
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Thanks, this one is even shorter than my usual ones but I like it anyways.
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I’m a huge fan of your work – you both are doing an excellent job !
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Thank you
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Pingback: The Hung-Man’s Bottle Cap – Flash 365
I so love your creativity!
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I’m glad. The pool in our heads hasn’t gone dry quite yet. Hopefully we still have a few more surprising stories to tell before the end.
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Gosh, I hope you’re far from that! 🙂
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October 17th. But, we will work on other projects after that. Just the year of flash fiction will end.
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OH!
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