Idiot

I have had this recurring nightmare – of being up there on the stage, and seeing the auditorium full of faces I dislike. How the hell do I perform? The act changes involuntarily. I make an extempore speech and there is a stunned silence. For once, my opponents have nothing to say.

Happy with my vengeful act, I walk down the aisle and find them all dead. Whoa! I hadn’t imagined life could be so good.

I walk out of the exit door – and find that I am in the land of the dead.

“Idiot– you thought you could live on.”

(100 words)

 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

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