Friday, April 12, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday--It's Not Unusual


     Many say they can't sleep in the big city when they first move here from nowheresville. It's all the noise from the cars, and it stays brighter too. Sure, it was weird at first, but now it's normal for me. I've never been much of a sleeper anyway, more of a napper.

     Sometimes I walk home after a gig, or after I'm finished prowling the boulevards and alleys for whatever the restaurants have to offer (the whole-in-the-wall places are always the best), and I'm reminded how I used to be amazed by the differences. Not anymore. One day I realized we had all the same stuff at home, it just looked different, and the world wasn't really that divided. Like, the mall rats I'd known; they're basically just a few years away from being identical to the bar crawlers we've got here. All the suits ignore me, same as they did in the old town. And then there are the mothers. Some of them are always trying to have me over for dinner. Others chase me away with broomsticks and curses. They don't know what kind of trouble I am or not; they just assume. Same as in the small town. Everything's the same here. There's just more of it.

     So I go out and sing for my dinner most every night. I know I could cozy up to the Italian mams and never think twice about it, but I don't want to. I genuinely want it to feel different here. My own mom took care of me at home; why would I want to domesticate myself when I came out here for my freedom in the first place? To satisfy the itch I couldn't scratch before?

     I still keep my license though, with mom's name - Jones - and the address, in case I ever need to go visit home. She'd be sad if I wasn't wearing it.


Want to make one of your own? Next week's prompt is NON-FICTION.

Write a short essay from the starting point, "an inspirational speech in under 50 words." 

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