Short Story Sunday 255: Wave

Short Story Sunday: Wave | Creative Writing | Flash Fiction | Short Story | RachelPoli.com

He never saw it coming. His friends had dared him to swim out as far as he could. He was a good swimmer. Better than all of his friends. His parents had him take swimming lessons since he was two-years-old. He didn’t enjoy it very much as a kid, but he stuck with it. It wasn’t until he was much older that he really appreciated it.

It was a good thing he was there that day. The ice cream truck had come to the beach and he offered to get his friends each something. While he trekked through the sand, it stinging in between his toes and balancing frozen ice cream in his hands, he had heard his friends screaming.

He didn’t think anything of it though. His first instinct was that his friends were screaming for their ice cream. He assumed they had saw him coming and started cheering him on – or yelling at him to hurry up. He wasn’t too sure which one was it. The tone was hard to read from very far away.

Whenever he went to the beach with his friends they always camped right at the shoreline. It was always such a long walk through the desert sand to make it back to the showers, the shack, and the parking lot.

As he got closer though, he realized what his friends wanted from him. They wanted him to swim out as far as he could into the ocean.

They wanted him to do exactly what they had just dared their other friend to do who was having trouble swimming back.

There was a lifeguard already in the water for the rescue. He couldn’t stand by and watch his friend – and possibly a lifeguard – drown because of his friends’ stupidity.

Plus, he couldn’t say no to a challenge.

There was a huge wave on the horizon. He knew how to swim, not how to surf. He went out there anyway.

So, even though the lifeguard had brought back his friend, by the time he had a chance to go back out and get him… all that was left was the wave.

Words: 356

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Short Story Sunday 254: Welcome

Short Story Sunday: Welcome | Creative Writing | Flash Fiction | Short Story | RachelPoli.com

Allie opened the front door to her new home with a wide grin. “Come in, come in!” she exclaimed opening the door wider and allowing a few of her friends to enter. She had been living in this house for a week now and things finally seemed to be in order. All the boxes were unpacked and put away. The furniture was in place. The cable and Internet were set up. There was nothing else left to do other than celebrate.

She had set up the living room and the finished basement for people to roam and hang out. She cleaned every single room so her guests could wander and explore the three different floors of the house. Allie had a lot of space and she knew exactly what she was going to do for each and every inch of it.

“Wow,” Jon said as he entered the main living room. “This place is huge.”

“I went with the open concept.” Allie beamed. She had picked up the “open concept” saying when she was searching for a forever home. Before she started her search had no idea what that meant.

Casey wiped her feet on the welcome mat and kicked her shoes off to the side. “I wouldn’t want to get these beautiful hardwood floors scratched up.”

Allie giggled with excitement.

Jon chuckled. “Personally, I like carpet for living rooms.”

Allie frowned. “Why?

“Seems homier.”

Casey elbowed Jon and shot him a glare. Then she smiled at Allie. “Don’t listen to him, it’s beautiful.”

“I was just voicing my opinion. I didn’t say this looked bad. I merely meant if this were my home, I’d want carpet to be put in.” Jon explained defensively.

“Well, this isn’t your home.” Casey scolded.

“Guys, really. Don’t worry about it.” Allie dismissed with a wave of her hand. She closed the front door once her friends stood far enough into the living room. “Any suggestions are welcome. I may not listen, but I’m open to hearing opinion’s about decorating and the house itself.”

“It’s just on his mind because we’re still looking for our forever home.” Casey stated.

Jon snorted. “It’s been eight months and we’ve got nothing.”

“It’s eight more months of savings though.” Casey shrugged.

“Eh, fine,” Jon agreed. He nodded his head to Allie. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall and it’s the first door on your left.” Allie said pointing her finger across the room. She grinned again. “It’s a guest bathroom. There’s another guest bathroom in the basement, a full bathroom upstairs, and another full bathroom in the master bedroom – my bedroom.”

“Nice!” Jon cheered.

“Why do you need the bathroom? Didn’t you just go before we left?” Casey asked.

“Yeah, but I wanna check it out.” Jon said with a shrug. Without waiting for Casey’s response, he turned away and headed down the hall. Casey let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“There’s food in the kitchen.” Allie said to her and then added, “along with my parents. Enter at your own risk.”

Casey grinned. “Well, the kitchen is my favorite part of the house. I can’t wait to see what that looks like!” She immediately turned right around and headed toward the archway that lead into the kitchen. It was wide enough to tell the kitchen was next door, there was no need for Allie to show her the way.

Allie remained in the living room by herself. Her family was picking on the appetizers in the kitchen along with a couple of family friends. Jon and Casey had arrived. There were just a few more people left to come. Then she could give everyone the grand tour. Most of them helped her move in, but they haven’t seen the place as Allie’s before.

The doorbell rang again. Allie clapped her hands to herself and turned to open the door.

Words: 645

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Short Story Sunday 253: Delivery [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Delivery" | Flash Fiction | Creative Writing | RachelPoli.com

Chase came home to find a package sitting on the front steps. He bent down, picked it up, and read the label before even unlocking the front door. “Alyson Dixon,” he read and then sighed, “I didn’t order anything so I guess I should have known it wouldn’t be for me.”

“Why are you talking to yourself?”

Chase turned around hearing Alyson’s voice. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early.”

His sister shrugged as she pushed past him to unlock the front door. “Yeah, well it turned out I didn’t have to babysit this afternoon. I got to the school to pick up the kids and guess who pulls into the parking lot? They’re mom. She had the day off and forgot to text me.”

She pushed the front door open and took hold of the storm door to let her brother enter first.

Chase ducked under Alyson’s arm with his own arms wrapped around the box. Alyson followed letting the storm door close with a light slam. Then she closed and locked the front door again.

Chase put the package on the couch. “That’s annoying.”

Alyson shrugged again tossing her purse onto the armchair in the living room. “It’s fine. She said she’d pay me anyway because it was so last minute and she spaced.”

Chase smiled. “Wow, free money for four hours?”

Alyson chuckled. “Yep.”

“No wonder you can afford these packages. I feel like a new one comes for you almost every day.” Chase said. He stared at the box. His backpack wasn’t even off his shoulders yet.

“Christmas is around the corner, you know. Besides, what do you care?” Alyson wondered aloud.

“I’m curious, I guess.” Chase shrugged. Then he looked over his shoulder to his sister with a sly grin. “Are any of these packages for me?”

Alyson pushed her purse to the side and sat down in the armchair. She crossed her legs and propped her elbow up on the arm of the chair. She rested her head back and smiled. “Open it.”

Chase paused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean open the box. See what’s inside.”

“But you order a lot of stuff. You don’t know what could be in here.” Chase said.

“I know what’s in that box.” Alyson countered.

“But… what about Christmas?” Chase asked.

Alyson sighed. “Alright, fine. Don’t open the box.”

“No, no, I will!” Chase protested. He turned back around to look at the box.

He picked it up and held it high above his head. It was on the lighter side. He then brought it down to be eye-level with him and he shook it from side to side. Something slid around in it. The box wasn’t too heavy either. He shook it again but up and down this time. Whatever was in there bounced around. He guessed it was something small.

Alyson rolled her eyes. “Come on, Chase. Just opened the box.”

He put it back down on the couch and ripped through the tape sealing the cardboard shut. He struggled for a bit. Alyson even got up to hand him a pair of scissors to cut through the packing tape. When he did, he handed her the scissors back and pulled the flaps open.

Chase grinned as he peered into the box. There was something special inside. Some he had always wanted, but there was a slight problem.

He picked it up and examined it. His smiled faded though he tried not to show it. “Wow, thanks, Alyson.”

“I know you really wanted that video game.” Alyson said with a proud smile.

“I do, but… I’m sorry, I can’t play it. I don’t have the latest console that this is for.” Chase said. He felt bad. He knew his sister had meant well and he was excited and grateful for the gift. He didn’t want her to think otherwise.

Alyson chuckled. “Come on, Chase, I’m not stupid. The console should arrive by tomorrow night.”

Chase’s eyes grew. His jaw dropped.

Alyson laughed. She wrapped her arms around her brother in a hug.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed. “But… why? And why not for Christmas?”

“I thought about giving it to you for Christmas. But you’ve been wanting this for months now. And I figured I could get you some accessories for it for Christmas.” She winked.

Chase grinned. More deliveries were on the way.

Words: 731

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Short Story Sunday 252: Admit [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Admit" | Creative Writing | Flash Fiction | RachelPoli.com

Gina opened the front door to her house and poked her head in. Neither one of her parents were in the living room. She didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen either. Hopefully, her father was in the basement and her mother was in their bedroom. She entered the house and closed the door softly behind her. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she didn’t want to lie to them.

She adjusted her backpack onto her shoulders and quietly made her way over to the stairs. As long as she’d be able to make it up there without making too much noise, she should be in the clear.

Except pretty much every step squeaked. Why was it that the stairs never made a sound when she walked normally on them, yet they spoke loudly whenever she was trying to be stealth?

“Honey, is that you?” she heard her mother call.

Gina froze in the middle of the stairs. Honey could mean one of two things – either her mother knew Gina was due home from school or she thought she was talking to her husband.

“Honey?” she called again.

Gina bit her lower lip. Come on, say a name! Honey wasn’t getting anyone anywhere.

There were a few moments of silent. Gina hoped her mother had given up. Maybe she thought she had heard things. Yeah, that would be good. Now all Gina had to do was try her best to keep as quiet as she could. She was halfway up the stairs already. She could do this.

Gina lifted her left foot to take the next step when she heard other footsteps. She froze again. The basement stairs were directly below the stairs going up. That meant her father was coming up from the basement.

That was okay, though. Maybe he was just going into the kitchen to get a snack.

She heard the basement door open. This was still okay. As long as she didn’t move, no one would notice her and she’d be fine.

“Gina?”

She remained still. How had she not heard her father round the corner? Clearly, he had much more practice at being stealth than she was.

“Uh, Gina? What are you doing?”

Oh, right. She was still frozen. She relaxed and turned around to smile at her dad. “Hey, how are ya?”

Her father narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I’m good, how are you doing?”

“Great,” Gina replied all too quickly.

“Honey, what’s going – oh. Hi, Gina.”

Gina snapped her head around. Her mother was now standing at the top of the stairs. “Oh, no… I’m cornered.” She muttered.

“Cornered?” her father repeated folding his arms sternly.

Gina grinned. What else was she supposed to do?

“Did anything interesting happen in school today?” her mother asked.

“Well, you don’t have to pressure me! Fine, I’ll tell you.” Gina said exasperated. She threw her arms up in the air before turning back to her mother. Did she detect a small smirk on her mother’s face?

“I got…” Gina began but then sighed.

“Suspended, we know.” Her father finished her sentence.

Gina paused. “Wait, how?”

“Your principal called.” Her mother answered.

“Oh,” Gina relaxed. In a way she was relieved. She didn’t want to lie to them but she also didn’t want them know she had gotten too many detentions to warrant a suspension. Which reminded her… “Do you know why?”

“Too many detentions.” Her father said.

“Which explains why you’re home late sometimes.” Her mother added.

Gina nodded. There was no getting out of this one.

“So, were you sneaking up the stairs?” her mother chuckled. “What were you going to do during the school day for the next week without us knowing?”

Gina opened her mouth. Honestly, she hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. It was true, she would have had to pretend to go to school every morning. What would she do? Where would she go? Her mother stayed home, there was no way she’d be able to just hang home all day.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, Dear.” Her father said. He started walking up the stairs and slid past his daughter. “She’s grounded anyway.”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Once her husband was at the top of the stairs, she took it upon herself to go downstairs. She patted Gina on the shoulder as she passed.

Gina watched her mother as she disappeared into the living room. She looked above her and her father was already gone. She leaned her back against the wall and sighed. Well, that didn’t go as planned. Deep down she knew that was for the best.

Words: 783

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Short Story Sunday 251: Provide [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Provide" | Creative Writing | Flash Fiction | RachelPoli.com

Brady entered the store. He looked at the list his girlfriend had given him. After reading the items over in his head a few times, he folded the paper up and slid it into his back pocket. He turned around and walked back out of the store to grab a basket.

He hated it when the stores had an entry way and put their baskets and shopping carts there. Sure, it saved room in the store, but most often than not, he would grab his items then realize he needs more but has no arm space. Then he’d have to put it all down to leave the store, grab, a cart, only to come back in and pick everything back up. It was a pain.

He had grabbed a basket this time knowing he’d need it before he tried to fill his arms up with everything his girlfriend needed. Normally she did the shopping when it came to the kids, but she wasn’t feeling that well. And, well, they really did need food.

Brady wandered through the store weaving in and out of the many isles. While she had written down the brands and foods they liked to eat, Brady didn’t know his way around the store. It was times like this that he wished he had gone with her a couple of times. Then he’d be in and out.

He quickly filled up the basket though. He didn’t think he would, but he grabbed enough so that he wouldn’t have to come back anytime soon. Or, at least until his girlfriend was feeling better.

There were a few other things on the list that he picked up. Some were too heavy for the basket, but he managed. He hadn’t been working out lately like he said he would, so this was perfect. It was a nice start even if it wasn’t consistent.

Brady paid for all his stuff – over $100 worth. He grumpily shook his head at the cashier but didn’t say anything. He knew it wasn’t her fault. It was his girlfriend’s. She didn’t even give him money to pay for all of it. For some reason, she acted like they were married.

“What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” She’d tell him.

Brady grunted as he picked up all the bags. He bid the cashier a good day. She had asked him if he’d need help bringing it all out to the car, but he declined. He liked a good challenge.

It wasn’t until he made it out of the store that he realized he parked in the furthest spot.

As always, he managed. When he made it back home, he was greeted by the kids – his girlfriend’s two dogs and three cats.

Brady tried balancing the bags in his hands as the cats rubbed up against his legs weaving in and out as the dogs tried to jump up and lick his face.

“I know, I know… I got food. Hold on,” Brady said raising the bags over his head and side-stepping through the living room to get to the kitchen.

“Did you have any trouble?” he heard his girlfriend call from the bedroom.

“No, not at all.” Brady said as he dropped the bags onto the kitchen counter. The cats jumped up onto the counter. One by one, Brady picked them up and put them back on the floor.

“Come on, you know better.” He muttered.

“Do you mind feeding them now?” she called.

Brady took out a few cans of dog food from the bags and the two dogs went berserk. He sighed. “I think it’d be really mean of me not to.”

Words: 611

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Short Story Sunday 250: Secrets [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Secrets" | Flash Fiction | Creative Writing | RachelPoli.com

Allan opened the bedroom door a small crack. He peered in, slowly craning his neck to look into the room. When the coast seemed to be clear, he slid through as small a crack in the door his body would allow, and closed the door behind him with a soft click. He scanned the room, taking it all in, wondering where it could be.

His back was pressed against the door. Allan knew he needed to actually look around the room and move things around if he was ever going to find it. However, he also knew this was wrong. He shouldn’t have been in his brother’s bedroom. He shouldn’t have been thinking about snooping around and invading his privacy.

Allan sighed and pushed himself away from the door. He wouldn’t be a very good little brother if he didn’t snoop around, though… right?

He started to his right where his brother’s dresser was. He looked on top – nothing. He opened the first drawer and lifted the neatly folders shirts – nothing. Allan closed it and opened the second drawer. He picked up some dress pants and jeans – still nothing. He closed it and opened the third drawer, shuffling around his brother’s underwear and socks – absolutely nothing. He closed the drawer in frustration, the drawer slamming. Allan winced. Hopefully no one heard that.

He straightened out turning around. No, his brother wouldn’t leave it in such an easy spot like his dresser within his clothes. Allan smiled at his brother bed. He’s hide it in a much tougher spot.

Allan lunged at the bed. He lifted up the bed sheets. It wasn’t there. He lifted the mattress on one side – nothing – and then the other side – nothing.

Allan pouted. Surely, he had thought his brother would hide it under his mattress. He didn’t bother looking under the bed. That was too obvious of a spot. He sat on the bed, lying down. His head hit the pillow hard.

“Ow!” he exclaimed sitting up. He rubbed his head. Man, his brother had a stiff pillow.

Allan froze. Wait a minute.

He picked up the pillow and turned it upside down so the opening of the pillowcase was pointed to the ground. Gravity did its job and a book fell out of the case and onto the bed.

Allan grinned. His brother’s journal. This was sacred. But now he’d be able to see who his brother had a crush on.

Words: 407

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Short Story Sunday 249: Shallow [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Shallow" | Creative Writing | Flash Fiction | RachelPoli.com

Sidney sat down in the far corner of the black leather. She crossed her arms and legs and turned her head to face the wall. She would have looked out the winder but then she’d had to look at him.

Cameron was already sitting. He too was on the couch and could tell that Sidney had purposefully sat far away from him. He sighed and turned his attention to the guidance counselor.

“Do you see what I mean?” he said pointing to his friend.

Mr. Warner stared sympathetically at Cameron. “Let’s not point fingers now. We’re here to talk about what’s bothering us and work out our differences.”

Cameron pressed his lips together. He sat stiffly. He had never been in the guidance counselor’s office before unless it was for something school related. He was a good kid. He did his homework, he was friendly with everyone. He didn’t understand why one of his best friends was so angry at him that they needed peer mediation.

“Sidney?” Mr. Warner turned his attention to her. “Did you hear me?”

She grunted, still staring at the wall.

“Sidney, we all need to be in this together 100-percent.” The guidance counselor said calmly. He opened a notebook and rested it on his lap. “Now, would either of you like to volunteer to start?”

Sidney cast a side glance over her shoulder. Once she noticed Cameron looking at her, she immediately turned away again. Cameron sighed looking at Mr. Warner. He opened his mouth to begin, but noticed the notebook.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“To take notes.” Mr. Warner replied.

“Why do you have to take notes on us?” Cameron replied hastily. “This isn’t like… therapy or anything, is it? We’re having an argument, what’s there to take notes for?”

“I want to make sure I can understand and remember everything you guys tell me. Taking notes allow me to take a look back at your statements and try to piece things together.” Mr. Warner explained.

Sidney snorted.

“Statements?” Cameron stood up from the couch. “You make it sound like we’re on trial for something.

“I assure you, Cameron, that’s not the case.” Mr. Warner said shaking his head. He pointed to the couch. “Please, take a seat. Would you like to get us started?”

“What was that sigh for?” Cameron asked. “You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you? Well, I’ve never been on trial before!”

“You’re not on trial.” Mr. Warner said a little louder.

“Do you see what I put up with?” Sidney piped up.

Mr. Warner and Cameron froze turning their attention to Sidney. Neither of them had noticed she was looking at them now and actually listening.

“I’m beginning to. Sidney, would you like to start?” Mr. Warner replied.

“Oh, so now you’re both against me?” Cameron replied. He threw his arms up in the air and began to pace.

“No one is against you. No one is ever against you.” Sidney replied. She too stood up. “You overthink everything though. I’m frustrated because I corrected you with one little thing and you flipped out. You yelled at me and I don’t care too much for that, so yeah. I’m mad.”

Cameron’s shoulders relaxed. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Oh.”

“You never ask about what’s going on in my life. You don’t care about how my day is. All you care about is whether or not you’re doing a good job.” Sidney explained.

“A good job with what?” Cameron asked.

“Anything and everything. It’s annoying.”

“Okay, but we’re not a couple, so I don’t need to ask you about your day and stuff.”

Sidney rolled her eyes. “We don’t need to be a couple to be interested in each other. We’re friends, we still care about each other. Well, I care about you. I don’t know much about you caring about me.”

“Is that all?” Cameron wondered aloud.

Sidney nodded her head. “I just want to be normal friends without my day having to revolve around you.”

“Oh,” Cameron said with a nod. “Okay, I can work on that. I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

Sidney smiled. She walked over to him and gave him a big hug. After they pulled away, they both chuckled at how silly this whole thing was. The bell rang and they left the room side by side.

Mr. Warner remained in his chair. He let out a sigh. “Uh, glad I could help?”

Words: 740

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Short Story Sunday 248: Overflow [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Overflow" | Flash Fiction | Creative Writing | RachelPoli.com

Water dripped from the ceiling in the basement. Harry looked up from his book, comfortable in his new armchair, noticing the water. A bright flash of lighting shone through the small window and was followed by the loudest boom of thunder that seemed to shake the whole house. He closed his book and stared at the small dark spot on the ceiling.

He could understand if he were upstairs and the rainwater was seeping through the ceiling. However, the living room was above the basement. Unless the ceiling upstairs collapsed from the storm, there shouldn’t be any leak into the basement.

“I’ll be right back.” Harry said as he put his book to the side and pushed himself up from his chair.

No one answered him. In fact, he was the only one home. Both his dog and cat, however, were hiding underneath the couch in the basement from the storm. Harry enjoyed being upstairs during storms like this one so he could watch the rain at the window. He felt bad for the dog and cat though and thought to stay down with them. He spoke once in a while to comfort them and let them know he was there. The dog always hid, but the cat never did. That’s how he knew it was a bad storm.

Harry trekked up the stairs to check out the mysterious leak into the basement. His first thought was to head into the living room. He was pretty sure that room was above the basement. When he entered the living room, however, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

At least, not that he could tell.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, but that was dry. He took his shoe off and rubbed his sock over various places on the carpet, but no water soaked his foot. Of course, it wasn’t until he turned around that he noticed the problem.

The bathtub water was on, the water spilling over the sides of the tub. The bathroom was flooded and a steady stream was making its way to under the couch in the living room. Harry wasn’t quite sure how that worked out. He also wasn’t sure how he missed something so obvious.

He took off his socks – wearing wet socks was a terrible feeling – and dashed into the bathroom. He shut off the water and unplugged the drain immediately. Bubbles formed near the drain at the amount of water trying to get sucked down. It gurgled, making awful sounds. Harry groaned at the mess he’d made.

He rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed, even though there was no one else around him. He remembered now – he was going to take a bath when he saw the first crack of lighting followed by a subtle boom of thunder. He didn’t want to be sitting in a pool of water with a storm on the way.

So, he had taken his book and decided to sit downstairs. Apparently, he had never turned the water off.

Harry looked at his watch. The water had been running for a good 45 minutes. He felt like such an old man. How was this something he forget?

He reached into the bathroom closet and tossed a couple towels on the ground. He had a lot of cleaning up to do before his wife and kids got home.

Words: 560

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Short Story Sunday 247: Half Moon [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Half Moon" | Flash Fiction | Creative Writing | RachelPoli.com

“Don’t you think it looks like a fingernail?” Daisy broke the silence. She rested both hands on her stomach, her head resting on Cody’s stomach. Their bodies lay as a perfect 90-degree angle from one another.

Cody cracked a smile but shook his head. “I bring you out here to look at the stars. You know, trying to be romantic and all that. Then you have to point out to me that the moon looks like a fingernail?”

“But it does, doesn’t it?”

Cody sighed. He tilted his head to view at a different angle, the grass behind his head tickling his ears. He moved his arm up to scratch it, but Daisy reached over her head and snatched his wrist. She brought it back down and hugged it close to her like a teddy bear.

“Why do you want me to think the moon looks like a fingernail so much?” Cody asked. He let her have his right hand. He lifted his left arm and finally scratched behind his ear.

Daisy’s shoulders moved up in a tight shrug. “I don’t know. It was the first thing that popped in my head.”

“How about you take a look at the stars? I thought you enjoyed the constellations.” Cody suggested.

“I do,”

“Then–”

“But the moon is the brightest.”

Cody gave a slight nod even though she couldn’t see him. It was true, the moon, even skinny like a fingernail, was the brightest thing in the sky at the moment. He had to admit even he was having a hard time seeing the stars. He thought that might have been because he left his glasses in his truck, though.

He rested his arm behind his head and lifted up his left leg so his knee was in the air. He was careful not to disturb Daisy. His stomach was beginning to ache from the weight of her head, but he wasn’t about to push her off.

They were silent. There was nothing but the crickets chirping around them, a light breeze rustling in the trees. Daisy especially loved listening to Cody’s heartbeat as his chest moved her head up and down in rhythm to his breathing. Cody drew in deep breaths in time with the wind as Daisy’s perfume would make its way over to him.

“Hey, did you see that?” Daisy broke the silence once again.

“See what?” Cody asked tilting his gaze to look up at the sky.

“There was a shooting star. You missed it.”

“Oh,” Cody swallowed. “Well, you can make a wish at least. Is that what you’re supposed to do when you see a shooting star?”

Daisy chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t need to make a wish.”

Cody raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” Daisy repeated. She lifted her left hand and smiled at her new ring glinting in the moonlight.

Cody took her hand now in his. He kissed the back of her palm.

They fell silent again.

Words: 496

Check out the other Short Story Sundays I’ve done!

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Short Story Sunday 246: Don’t Worry [Flash Fiction]

Short Story: "Don't Worry" | Flash Fiction | Creative Writing | RachelPoli.com

“Don’t worry about me. I got this.” Ryan said dismissing his friend with a careless wave of his hand. He walked over to the front doors of the building and stared upward at them. They sure were tall. The glass was shining so bright from the sunlight too. Yet, they couldn’t see inside. He assumed the doors were a two-way mirror, which was pretty impressive. If they made it out of this alive, he was certainly going to invest in two-way mirror everything.

Monica stood a couple feet behind him. Her arms were folded across her chest tightly. The wind was sending a chill down her spine, though she had a feeling the chill wasn’t just from the cold air. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course!” Ryan boasted. He put his hands on his hips and continued to stare at the doors. How was he supposed to get in, now?

“Then why are you just standing there?”

“Monica, why don’t you just stay quiet so I can think?” Ryan asked in as nice a tone as he could. “I need to concentrate. Make sure you keep a good look out.”

“A good look out?” Monica gasped. “Ryan, I don’t think this is such a good idea…”

Ryan sighed. He rolled his eyes to himself but when he turned around he had a wide grin on his face. He walked over to his friend and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll be fine; I know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t seem like you do.” Monica muttered bowing her head.

Ryan’s face flat lined. “Yeah, fair enough… but it’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”

Monica looked him in the eye. “Let’s forget it. I want to go home. This was a bad idea.”

“No, the reason we’re here was because of a bad idea.” Ryan countered.

Monica’s bottom lip jetted out and began to quiver.  Ryan’s eyes grew wide.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant! It was great, wonderful – fantastic even! I just meant we should have been a little more careful.” Ryan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and put her head on his shoulder. He sighed. “Why did we have to do it on a Sunday when all the stores close early?”

Monica sniffled. “Maybe we’ll just have to wait and see what happens…”

“No, we can’t do that.” Ryan said shaking his head. “We’ll both be in huge trouble and so will the…” his voice faded as he realized what he was about to say. How could he have gotten himself into such a situation?

“Maybe nothing happened?” Monica said quietly. She lifted her head to look at him and she shrugged hopeful.

“What if something did happen?” Ryan commented. He let go of Monica and walked over to the doors again. “No, I have to get in there somehow… I think Plan B only works within the first 24 hours afterward.”

“You know,”

Ryan jumped at the unfamiliar voice. He turned around and Monica was backing toward him. It was a police officer. Of course it was.

“There’s a 24-hour convenience store a couple miles down the road that carries the same stuff. If you are in trouble, I’d suggest not robbing a store to get yourself into bigger trouble.” He said. He stared Ryan and Monica down, but his expression was gentle and his tone was calm.

“Oh.” Ryan deadpanned. He let out a chuckle looking at Monica who was glaring at him. “What? This is my go-to store.”

Ryan took Monica’s hand in his and began to walk her away toward his car in the parking lot. He smiled politely at the officer as they past him. “Thank you, sir. Uh, sorry for the trouble.”

The officer cracked a smile in return. “Good luck.”

As they were power-walking away, Monica asked Ryan through gritted teeth, “How did you not see the police car on the other side of the road?”

“Me?” Ryan scoffed. “You were the lookout.”

Words: 674

This story is in response to this week’s Writing Prompt. Also, check out the other Short Story Sundays I’ve done!

I hope you enjoyed this story! Let me know in the comments below. If you liked this post, please share it around.

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