The following is not only my first flash fiction attempt,
but my first entry into any type of writing contest.
I'm doing it for the sake of silliness,
tomfoolery, and shenanigans.
Also cause @ruanna3 sent the Excuse Fairy
to my house and man alive is she a feisty one!
You can find the guidelines at Yearning for Wonderland.
And without further ado,
I give you a little ditty I shall now dub--
“Mom?” Adam whispered.
Adam’s wide eyes scanned the cramped space, a beat-up desk, two chairs— one wobbly, one with duct tape across its center—and scuffed yellowed linoleum. Huddled against a grease stained wall, Adam searched for his mother. One moment, she’d been sitting at the desk working on a jigsaw puzzle, while telling him a story about a panda bear who’d lost his teapot and had to travel from China to Australia to steal it back from a pesky kangaroo, when poof, she’d vanished.
His mother had been driving him to school that morning when their tire had blown out. They’d found themselves stranded in front of an auto shop. A man covered in grease and smelling of gas had ushered them into the waiting room. He’d grunted indiscernible words and disappeared through the only door in the room. Seeing a half finished puzzle on the desk, Adam’s mom started working on it, while Adam slumped in a chair.
Panic caused Adam’s heart to pound, his hands slick, his mouth dry. The windowless room pressed in on him, the air stale. His ears hummed and the tang of acid filled his mouth. A tear slipped down Adam’s cheek and he brushed it away. He straightened from the wall with a quick jerk.
Light pulsed from the table where he’d last seen his mother. Adam’s feet dragged as he walked toward the table. The light wasn’t coming from the desk, but from the completed puzzle. Adam’s body shook as he reached out a hand toward the puzzle. He wanted to stop himself, but couldn’t. His fingers brushed its corner.
“Adam!” He jerked his hand back, cradling it to his body.
He glanced around the room, his eyes wild. He’d heard his mother yell his name. But how?
“Mom?” Adam reached out once more, laying his palm flat on the puzzle.
Adam’s hand fused with the puzzle. He gasped and bumped into the desk’s chair, which landed with a crash. The light of the puzzle faded as the door creaked open and laughter filled the empty room.
word count: 348