Fantasies

Just a little something short to add to today's post!  This is my February submission to Flash Party, a flash fiction challenge that asks authors to write tiny stories once a month, 250 words or less and based around the month's theme (or not).  You should give it a try, right over here!




Story under the cut . . . 

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Fantasies

“He’s coming back,” she coos, looking somewhere just over my shoulder.  She’s announcing it to no one in particular, to the world.

I blink and shake my head.  “Sorry?”

“He’s coming back,” she repeats.  Because that clarifies it.  When I don’t immediately respond with joy, she turns blank eyes to me and explains, “He’s going to take me to Boston.”

I can only picture the scene on my lawn, when the sheriff showed up just thirty seconds after Beau found out he was going to be a father.  “He’s not coming back,” I respond automatically.

She ignores me.  “We’ll settle in and I’ll have the baby there.”  She grins.  “Perfect.”

Possession, intent to distribute, drug trafficking – he broke almost every drug-related law on the books.  There were whispers of federal prison, of ten, fifteen, twenty years behind bars.  I remind her gently, “Shauna, baby, he got arrested.”

“…and we’re going to teach the baby to ice skate, just as soon as she can stand…”

“Shauna,” I interrupt sternly, “he jumped bail that night.”

“…he coming to get me, now that everything’s all ready back east…”

There must be a way to knock some sense into her.  “No one’s seen him since,” I force through clenched teeth.  This crazy act is already jumping up and down on my last nerve.

“…he has a job set up, and everything!”

“He won’t risk jail time for you or that mutant in your womb!” I cry out.

Shauna isn’t too happy to hear that.