Flash fiction

Words elude me. I sit quietly. The world is passing me by. As if this bench is drifting on the open sea. I look at the words on the page. My words. A different page. How did this happen?

A thief. He wanted to shake my hand. I know thieves. I did not shake his hand.

It’s like he reached in and took them out. One by one. These words on this page. My words. His name. I am shaking. Not his hand.

This bench is floating out across the sea. My words. Separated from me. Someone else using my voice. His voice speaking my words. Accolades. Prizes. Not mine. His.

My only consolation. In his smug little mind, there can only be silence. He is not upon the sea. He remains in the mud. With a target on his back.

Arrows run straight and true when fired from the crest of a wave.

I buzz the door. No one answers. I look at the card. It’s not my card. It’s not my building. I swipe the card. Push. Open. Enter. I am wearing heels. Well dressed. Smart. Suited. I hear my heels.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

On the tiles, in the entrance hall. I record the sound on my phone. For later.

There is carpet here too. Shoes off. I walk across the carpet. Plush. I can see vague footprints. Mine next to another. Smaller. You never look down at your carpet do you? Never really see the faint outline of feet. People are careless. I watched. Dropped. I found.

I run my fingers along the shelving. Dust. I sit on the couch. Nice. It’s a nice couch. Not to my taste. But nice. I turn on the TV. Daytime TV. I pick up the DVD case. The last one watched. I open it. I don’t quite close it. Put it down again.

The kitchen. I go in. Shoes on.

Click.

Clack.

On those shiny tiles. I open the fridge. I touch the bottle of milk. I pluck a cherry tomato from the stash in the fruit bowl. Tasty. I feel the oranges too. Round. Juicy. I like oranges. But I only touch. I open a drawer. No one will know I have been here.

I look in the drawer. Neat. Organised. Something catches my eye. Blue. A blue plastic potato peeler. I don’t own. Well. I do own. Now. I will keep it safe. I look in the bathroom. I look at my watch. How long has it been? Minutes. I put my hand on the sink, just to see the colour of my nails against the porcelain.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

On the tiles. Time to go now. I will drop the card outside your door.

I didn’t use your toilet. That would be weird.