First Flash- The Desolate Street Corner.

Here is the First Flash Fiction, The Desolate Street Corner.

The Desolate Street Corner
By: Alysha Brown

The breeze was bitter and cold. It whipped around, shook the trees and ran straight into a young boy who was standing on the corner of a dark and lonely street. He tightened his blue sweater that he had to wear everyday to school as part of his uniform, but the breeze was determined to make him shiver. He began to shiver uncontrollably. A man in a dark car shouted to him “Jeremiah, just wait in the car!” He looked back at the man, and responded, “She will be here soon and I can’t want to miss her again!” The man rolled up the window, and mumble words of displeasure under his breath.

Jeremiah hugged his sweater tighter, determined to not let the wind take him. His sweater smelled like cigarettes from his father smoking in the car and pasta from the school lunch he ate earlier in the day. He knew his father was nervous; he smoked five cigarettes in the car as he drove to the street corner. As Jeremiah looked at his watch, a lump formed in his throat, he knew this would be another day that she wouldn’t show up. He thought, “How could I have been so stupid again?” His mother promised to show up this time and yet he already knew she wouldn’t.

He began to think back about a year and half ago when they were all a happy family. His mother didn’t work, because she wanted to be there for her son, Jeremiah. His father was a principal in a local school district and put in long hours. Jeremiah was an honor student in the 5th grade, he loved to read but math was his favorite. Everything was going well, until a sudden change struck his household. His mother began to be scarce around the house, suddenly she wasn’t able to pick Jeremiah up from school, attend his science fairs, make his meals, or correct his homework. She would be gone from dusk to dawn some days. She told Jeremiah and his dad, that Grandma was sick, and she was taking care of her. But the reality was that she was hooked on drugs. It wasn’t until Jeremiah’s dad discovered what she was doing, that he gave her an ultimatum, clean up your act or get out of the house. Jeremiah hadn’t seen her since that day. She called here and there to say Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, but every time she spoke to Jeremiah, she would ask him to meet her on the same street, so that they could all get some dinner and talk about things.

Jeremiah dreamed of the day that he would see his mother again, but he was always let down by her. This was the third time that she had pulled a stunt like this. Jeremiah’s dad always disapproved, but Jeremiah gave her the benefit of the doubt. He looked back at his watch, it was 9:30, and she was supposed to be there at 8.

The lump in his throat began to rise higher and higher, and a tear fell from his eyes. He didn’t understand why she didn’t want to see him, why she continued to let him down. The wind blow once again, and his fingers were beginning to get numb. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater. He walked across the street to where his father’s car was and entered in on the passenger side. He looked at his dad, and began to cry. His father grabbed him and said “Its not you at all, son.” He released Jeremiah and as the wind started to blow again, they sped off of the desolate street, leaving Jeremiah’s dream of seeing his mother ever again.




10/31/2008