I love writing short, quirky stories that sort of drop you into the middle of something and then leave the rest unfinished. I only recently learned that this is known as "flash fiction." My most recent bit was inspired by a random tweet that showed up in my twitter feed. So, for your enjoyment or time wasting or whatever you deem it to be when you finish, here it is. (There is a typo in it somewhere, but I can't remember where it was.)
(Inspired by a random tweet by @Marlebean)
I know so many people who met their soulmates at the dog
park that it’s not even a realistic number anymore. Well, that may be an exaggeration, but not by
much. Jodi met Darryl; Theo met Jessica.
Honore’ met Justina and Chrissie met Justin. Friends, family, co-workers—yes,
so many of them met at the dog park.
Then here I am. I have met exactly zero interesting people.
I’ve had plenty that I thought could be interesting but none turned out to more
than passing thoughts. Then I came up with the greatest of plans.
“Kellie, I’m going to start going to the dog parks,” I
announced to my sister-turned-roommate one morning over coffee.
“What?” she responded dully. She wasn’t a morning person.
She wasn’t exactly a person before, say, lunch.
“Everyone I know has met their soulmate at the dog park. I’m
going to give it a shot.”
“You don’t have a dog.” She rubbed her face with both hands.
Then she gave me the rolly-eyes.
“I don’t have to have a dog. I can get a leash and some
doggy doo bags and go looking for my lost dog. Then when I meet someone that
doesn’t fit the soulmate hole in my psyche, I just pretend my phone buzzed and
it’s you telling me Zipper has returned.”
Kellie stood up, picked up her coffee mug, and shot me a
withering glare. “We will discuss your stupidity at dinner, Kim. I have
to get ready for work.”
Truth be told, I had to get ready for work too. I didn’t pay
too much attention to anything I was doing because I was planning my scheme. I
got a ticket on the way to work because I neglected to yield right of way to a
rather handsome officer. I stood at an out-of-order elevator for fifteen
minutes while co-workers giggled at me. That cute security guard was on duty
and he was nice enough to point it out to me. There is a distinct possibility
that I neglected to respond promptly to emails as well. This became problematic
when Dustin from accounts receivable came to my desk and hit me on the head
with his rather well-chewed pencil. He’s kind of cute, too. He gets these
dimples when he’s angry.
Anyway, five o’clock finally came and I really did attempt
to be more cautious on my journey home. I will admit, though, that I rather
hoped to run into that officer again. Well, not literally run in to, but more
like wave to him at the next stoplight.
When Kellie and I sat down for dinner, I picked up my fork
and eagerly began eating. She sat across the table and glared me.
“Do I have sauce on my chin?” I asked warily.
“You are an idiot, Kimmy. You are a certifiable idiot. Your
plan is hatched from the brain of a moron.”
I stopped mid-chew and looked at her blankly for a moment.
With a mouth half-full of spaghetti, I managed to garble out, “No, it’s genius
really.”
“How so?” she demanded.
“Well, I’m going to dog parks looking for Zipper. He’s
really good at running out an open door.”
“And what does Zipper look like?”
I hadn’t thought about that. I’d have to be more creative
than just a name.
But she wasn’t finished with me yet. “And how old is Zipper? And where did you get
him? And how long have you had him? And who’s his vet?”
I was nonplussed. “Okay, Kel. It’s obvious I’ve never owned
a dog before. In my life. That’s not my fault. I wanted a dog but you were
allergic. So, I’ll have to put more thought into this before I act on it.”
She looked ready to scream. “And.” She threw a napkin at
me. “When you meet this soulmate you
dream of and invite him home and there’s no sign of a dog anywhere?”
“I’ll just tell him Zipper got hit by a car.”
