Blueberry Croissants
[Fiction 101 is a story told in 101 words or fewer.]
Cycling in USPS outfits - his favorite Sunday activity. The five conquered hill after hill, he on the tail, past where Chucko last wagged his tail, and into an intersection one block from his deceased wife’s coffee shop. Seven years gone and still he relished Elpidha’s smile, extraordinary blueberry croissants, and –
HONK!
( Swerve!!)
Across the intersection, he gazed at the mangled bike, the four riders distressed around the body, the blood pool…
Later at the coffee shop, while Chucko waited outside the glass door, an aged Elpidha served him a blueberry croissant.
“It’s better on this side,” her smile reassured.
Cycling in USPS outfits - his favorite Sunday activity. The five conquered hill after hill, he on the tail, past where Chucko last wagged his tail, and into an intersection one block from his deceased wife’s coffee shop. Seven years gone and still he relished Elpidha’s smile, extraordinary blueberry croissants, and –
HONK!
( Swerve!!)
Across the intersection, he gazed at the mangled bike, the four riders distressed around the body, the blood pool…
Later at the coffee shop, while Chucko waited outside the glass door, an aged Elpidha served him a blueberry croissant.
“It’s better on this side,” her smile reassured.
posted by Astrapo | 12:01 AM
1 Comments:
This is so beautiful. I kept thinking, "there's no such thing as a blueberry croissant." But then I realized that it made sense, to center the story on a fantastical pastry.
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