His thrown plaints bounce off the salt shaker, his half-eaten hamburger, her coffee with skim. She deflects rebounds, ignores the begging, looks at her watch. Can’t believe she thought this dull piece of wood was the better showbiz option. True, with the other chap there’ll be the top hat menagerie and the sawing-in-half thing. But better a nightly sashay in high heels and skimpy spangled outfit than boxed into surrogate mommery with hinge-jawed sidekicks. Outside the diner, skimpy trees bordering the parking lot sashay in the wind and the window she’s next to rattles—picka card, picka card, picka card.
Jon Fain’s micro fiction has appeared in Six Sentences, The Dribble Drabble Review, The Daily Drunk, Blink-Ink, ScribesMICRO, Molecule, The Woolf, and elsewhere. https://www.chillsubs.com/profile/jonfain