Second Post Off the Cuff

In the window of a car before me propped up on its own
volition and buoyancy lay a mystery.

What holds its wrinkled soul in the stagnant air within an
empty vehicle?

Was it a forgotten memory of a happy celebration or did it
just drift in by some hap hazard breeze that came along on a not to sunny day.

Parking my car and eventually stepping out to get a better
look at the sad piece of inflation ,that was once probably a colorful
display.  I think about what it had been
through.

Going back in fourth within my brain, I hoped for the best
for the little Mylar display.

But after exploring through the glass at its wrinkled
surface, I knew it was on its last breath and I felt sad, until I eventually
spotted a woman and a girl of about seventeen, and I overheard the older woman
say as she opened the back of the vehicle, “It’s time you took your balloon
from your graduation to your room before it falls onto the seat and we forget
its there.”

The girl nodded and I heard the word, “Okay.”

I smiled to myself and continued to the store with the
satisfaction of knowing that at least the fate of the sole balloon was a good
one.

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Sample My Work

Belonged

by

F. Ulanoff

            Lensky and Hammer were friends.

They belonged to each other as good people who care do.

The night it happened was a foreshadowing of an ill fated romance that was long in coming and short in life.

Lensky loved his job at the art institute.  It provided him with an artist existence without the struggle of marketing his talent.  While Hammer, a short curved man was always at his side.

You might call Hammer a flunky, within his duties, but he loved to provide Lensky with what ever he needed to get out their ever sought after trade magazine.

Everyone at the institute suffered through each month until deadline.

Since there were no ads in their publication, it was a simple task indeed to put it to bed.

The night of the big storm, all the traffic lights in the city had gone dark and their building was on auxiliary power until the next morning.

The overhead fixture dimmed, as Hammer snuggled on the floor beneath his overcoat as Lensky did the same with his.

The dark sky lit up followed by a crank of thunder, just as Lensky fell asleep.

The two men awoke for an instant, turned away from each other only to have revolved into a spoon position.

“Wait,” Lensky said.

“Pardon me,” Hammer answered as they turned away from each other and fell back to sleep.

The End

Posted in Fay Ulanoff, Flash Fiction | Leave a comment