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Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Flash Fiction: Adam Pepper
Harry Never Smiles
By Adam Pepper
Harry woke up, and drank his morning coffee.
His wife muttered something about, “Are you gonna take out the garbage on your way out?” But he wasn’t listening, his nose buried in the morning paper.
His daughter whined something about, “Daddy, will you take me to the circus on Friday?” But he didn’t hear a word.
His dog barked something about, “Are you gonna take me for a walk?” But Harry didn’t have the time.
Harry walked to the train station. The usual route, no need to think about it. Mrs. Jenkins saw him, she smiled and waved. “Hi, Harry.” Harry didn’t wave back, she might want to chitchat. Better to keep his nose buried in the business section. He walked down the platform, seeing the same faces he saw yesterday, and the day before. One lady smiled, another waved, some guy nodded. Harry didn’t nod back.
Harry got to his office, precisely at 8:56. He was always four minutes early, so long as the trains stayed on schedule. He sat down inside his six-by-six foot cell that the boss called a cubicle. The bulletin board walls had post-its and sticky notes that read, Important! But there wasn’t a damn thing important about them. Just meaningless bullshit that filled his day. Each and every day filled with the same meaningless bullshit. You could label it important, but it was still just bullshit.
Back to the subway, then into Grand Central. Front crawl stroke through the well-dressed hordes. Catch the 5:35 express train. No seats, so Harry stood, one arm on the guardrail, one arm holding his newspaper. He’d already read the entire thing this morning, but needed something to stare at. Familiar faces walked by, some smiled, some nodded, some waved. Harry didn’t smile, that would invite chitchat. Better to keep his nose buried in the sports page.
Harry got home and ate his reheated dinner. His wife moaned something about, “When are you gonna take me away for a weekend?” But he didn’t listen.
His daughter shouted something about, “Daddy! Are you coming to my dance recital on Saturday?” But he wasn’t interested.
His dog barked something about, “Are you gonna take me for a walk?” But Harry didn’t have the time.
His dog barked something about, “Are you gonna take me for a walk?” But Harry didn’t have the time.
Harry walked into his study, and locked the door. His only sanctuary. The only place on Earth where they left him alone. Finally! Peace and quiet.
Harry took out his key, and opened the desk drawer. He picked up his revolver and one bullet from a box. He loaded his revolver and snapped it shut. The sound of the bullet lodging into place made him tingly all over. Harry shoved the barrel down his throat, just as far as it would go. Though gagging, Harry smiled. The monotony of his life rang through his brain, louder than any bullet ever could.
Harry took the gun from his mouth, removed the bullet from the chamber, and returned the revolver to its drawer. Then, he went to bed.
Harry took the gun from his mouth, removed the bullet from the chamber, and returned the revolver to its drawer. Then, he went to bed.
Harry woke up, and drank his morning coffee…
About the Author
At times disturbing and grim, others raunchy and comical, Adam Pepper’s work is known for a unique blend of horror, suspense and speculative fiction. He is the author of the novels SKIN GAMES, BURIED A MAN I HATED THERE and the Hank Mondale supernatural detective series. "Super Fetus," his outrageous Bizarro novella was called "In-your-face, allegorical social commentary" by esteemed reviewer, Paul Goat Allen. His quick-hitting short work has appeared in WAITING FOR OCTOBER, THE BEST OF HORRORFIND, Vol. 2 and SPACE AND TIME to name a few. Adam’s non-fiction credits span from NEW WOMAN MAGAZINE to THE JOURNAL NEWS. Learn more about Adam at www.AdamPepper.com.
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