Flash Fictionalz

How rude is Time, with its never ending haste and its selfish habit of being impatient? Is it really that much of a request, to hope that a kiss should last forever? That love should truly be eternal? That perfect moments are not necessarily supposed to last a fraction of a blink of an eye. Oh, be a sport, will ya? And just for a while, give us all a break... Allow us, to briefly and yet forever enjoy embracing our most precious moments. Just for a moment... Make now a never ending tale.

We lived most of my childhood in a small apartment somewhere near the city center. Back in the day, at least in my childish mind, everything wasn't just bigger, but also much simpler. The sky felt bluer, summer was undoubtedly warmer, and because I'm from a tropical country, winter used to bless us with a lot more rain than it does now. Perhaps it was all in my mind, or maybe all of those beautiful memories were indeed true, and now I merely gaze at the world through shrouded grown-up filtered eyes. I remember the rain was fun, and that mom would always bake something that would keep us all warm while we all watched my favorite movies together. I remember dad and his crazy yet perfectly fun ideas of how to handle my childhood. The amounts to which how much I miss him can never be fathomed precisely through any means... To miss someone the way I miss dad is to forever bear in your heart a wound that's poked daily by each and every thought of him. "Go get y...

"Who's orange soda is this?" I said as my mind was already speculating on a thousand different reasons as to why there was an orange soda in my refrigerator. Each more vile than the next. "What? What orange soda? The one in the fridge, you mean?" He finally yelled back from the shower. It's just an orange soda. It shouldn't require much thinking, so why the long silence before any perfectly reasonable and yet impossible explanation? "Is there another? Are we soda people now? Suddenly our bodies aren't temples anymore?" "Ahh, that soda. Yeah, no... That's the only one. I forgot it was there." Whatever that meant. "Excuse me!", I yelled as I barged into the bathroom. "Would you mind telling me why is there a godamned soda can in our fridge? What is this? Huh?" "Wow, you seriously need to calm down, don't you think? It's just soda. I bought it this morning...

          Why would he park his bike so far away? I can't seem to understand his broken logic, if that's what it is at all. It gets me every time, and in my late afternoons I get on the bus, but leave behind my thoughts over why that young man parks his old rusty bike twenty yards away from the little grocery store he religiously visits every day at precisely the same time. As I am helplessly taken to work by the bus driver, a gentle and talkative gentleman, I can't help but to vainly agree to most of his absurd political arguments. There's just not enough room to ponder and wonder over the delivery man and his unexplicable habbit of parking such a long walk away from his destiny, and at the same time debate over politics . I have had enough of that. The need to find out the reason behind such an idiotic act was too intense to be left alone. So I decided that today I would be late for work, I'd take the second bus, forty minutes later, but it would be worth it...

I wasn’t supposed to be at the park the other day, and neither was she, for that matter. We hadn’t planned the events of that day. It just happened that we decided to spend the next morning together, regardless of our families and our responsibilities. So maybe we did plan it. Not the most down to earth decision I’ve ever made, but I don't regret it so much as I miss it. God, how I miss it... Not a single day goes by in which I fail to remember that morning at the park. Just us, and our guilty conscience. Never again will guilt have such a remarkable taste. As we kissed and hugged, and strolled down through the dense woods, we spoke of our thoughts and our fantasies concerning a future we would never share, and sometimes we were melancholic about the feelings of joy and love that drowned our spirits right there and then. We understood, helped, and cared for one another in such a way that I fear neither of us will ever witness again. Perhaps you can imagine how much I hope that...

"What was that...?" "What was what?" "That horrendous screaming! Didn't you just hear it? It was terrifying. A truly evil sound. What was it? Do you know?" "That was an owl... They do that to communicate with other owls when they're out hunting... Or they feel somewhat threatened by other predators... Baby owls screech like that too, I think." "You know so many amazing things, grandpa. It must be so nice to always be aware of everything people ask you. Always have the right answers for every question. I would never have guessed that sound came from an owl. No, sir. Maybe an evil dragon, or something like that." "I'm well aware of almost everything that interests me... But I'm nowhere near knowing everything. I'd have to live a thousand lives and remember them all in order... In order to know a spark of everything the world hides from us. That's how little I know. That's how littl...