Fun

Flash Fiction

Tonight we are alive. The vodka and tonic tells us so and the pounding music sides with the alcohol. We’re just like everybody else; every other smoke filled, glassy-eyed, stumbling teenager in this barn. At least our dresses aren’t as tight as yours. That skimpy red slip keeps us from being complete w****s and validates our thoughts that we are better than you, but the same as you. Fun like you.

We toss the word around like it’s nothing and swallow it down with a couple pills. They feel right and make our heads spin. We take one more and soon we’re puking in the back garden, the “fun” burning our throats.

The music still pounds in the background, but we barely hear it. We feel the pulse in our fingertips as we lie on the grass and stare at the sky, thinking about how we want to catch that shooting star and ride on its tail. But we’re too lazy to wish for anything good, so we close our eyes and hope for the nausea to go away and pray that by some miracle we don’t wake up with our panties off and a broken condom on the floor.

Reviews

[Marie]

This sounds like what fun isn't. Good story.