Flash Fiction, The adventures of Max

Max goes to the Park. pt.1

The night is black. The stars are hiding, perhaps the moon is also sleeping, as the only source of light is the artificial kind.

The streetlights illuminate the neighbourhood in white.

It is that unusual time of night when an unsettling silence exists, the kind of silence where even nature itself is still. The animals that often freely roam at this time such as the Fox’, the Hedgehogs, or Bats for some surreal reason are sleeping in their dens. It is as if a witch has cast a spell on this unassuming neighbourhood.

Nothing stirs, or so we thought, actually there is something moving, something stirring. Is it an animal? A ghost? A witch? No. It’s a Max.

Max is holding the leash of his Pitbull named ‘Meme’. He walks in this unsettling silence. Every step he takes makes a loud clattering sound on the uneven concrete. His subtle breathing and the ‘hum hum hum’ tune he whistles break this silence.

Max looks left then right. “Hey Meme wanna run around the park?”

Meme looks at Max and pants. “Geez why are you so desperate. Fine I’ll let your run around the park. But only a little, got it.”

Meme continues looking up at Max and panting. Max can’t help but smile at Meme and lead her into the park.

“Oh it’s pretty creepy here at night, ain’t it?”

Meme pants.

“We’ll only stay a little.”

Meme nods and pants.

Max un-clips Meme’s leash, takes a ball from his pocket and throws it. Meme barks excitedly and runs after the ball in a frenzy.

 

 

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Flash Fiction, The adventures of Max

Grey Sky, Grey Smoke

colourcigaretteI walk out the convenience store holding the carton of milk and pack of cigarettes my Mum had screamed at me to buy first thing this morning. It’s Sunday, the sky is a pleasant grey which makes the dull buildings look more dull. It creates this sinister and noir atmosphere that I love. This is my favourite weather. There’s quite an icy breeze which crawls up my sleeves flirtatiously. I feel its chill and pull my collar higher up and my gloves tighter.

Just as I turn in the direction of home I see a bunch of kids loitering outside the store, I know them, they’re locals and some of them go to my sixth-form. I wonder whether I should say hello but I’m too lazy to start a conversation so I’m about to walk past them when one grabs me.

They grab my shoulders and turn me around to face them, “If it ain’t Max.” she says.

“Oooh is that Max.” they all start coming closer to me and I know there’s no escape. I just sigh.

“I heard you ditched Mr. Richards class on Friday, you are so bad ass.” says a girl, her name is Shelly. She’s wearing a real short skirt and crop top and I can’t help but wonder if she’s cold.

“There is no reason staying in a class when I don’t want to learn.” I reply.

There are looks of praise from the others.

“You must think your pretty hot stuff, always ditching, being late and not hanging out with no one. Why don’t you join our group?” says one guy, his name is Aaron, he’s putting on a friendly smile.

Join his group, he must be ridiculous. They were just a bunch of kids loitering around, trying to act cool, and getting into trouble. Hanging out with them sounded stupid.

“I’ve got better things to do.”

“Well then go screw yourself, you ain’t wanted.” he yells at me, I’ve probably offended him, his friends back him up and start glaring at me. All I can do is sigh. It’s not like I wanted to talk.

I ignore them and turn around, take a cigarette from my pocket, light it and watch as the smoke rises. Every time I light a cig I feel the wind pick up around me, it’s as if my soul will be stolen away. It feels kind off thrilling, having one in my hand. I wonder why my Mother smokes tons of these everyday, I don’t get it. I walk and watch as it burns and then I throw it to the ground. I smash it under my foot.

 

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Flash Fiction, The adventures of Max

Another day in Class.

Mr. Richards is grumbling about Politics. He’s talking about the judiciary and making the class take the same notes over and over again. It’s times like this that Max really wonders why he chose this subject. He thought it would be more exciting, like learning about Terrorism and Human rights or Regionalism, but apparently that is for the next year. This year they are learning about UK politics, which is enjoyable in its own way, but Max feels disengaged. It is so difficult, he just can’t wrap his mind around the subject whatsoever. It is nearly exam time and he still can’t remember how legislature went through parliament and still hasn’t done any of his notes or mind-maps.

‘Perhaps I should be listening in this lesson’, Max thought, but the moment he thought it the idea ran out his ear. There is no point, it is a lost cause, he’d just drop it or worse come to worse he’d drop school altogether and take an apprenticeship. Max is the type of person that doesn’t stress about education or the future. As far as he is concerned, grades, or the type of job he got didn’t dictate the quality of life he would have in the future.

Max looks out the window, watching the clouds pass, then Mr. Richards, noticing his lack of attention, says, “Mr. Malis can you tell me how a judge can retain their neutrality?”

Max can only stare at him blankly. “I don’t know sir, but I do know I need to go to the toilet, so I’ll be back in a bit.” Although Max says this he is really just planning on ditching the class. So he picks up his bag and stands up.

At his words other students begin laughing, chatting, saying “typical Max”, “always dozing off”, “lol”, “exams are soon he should get his act together” and “is he actually leaving?” At their words and Max’s actions Mr. Richards’ face goes redder and redder with anger, but before he can scream Max is already skipping out the classroom.

Max goes into the quiet corridors and begins walking down the stairs. He stretches, yawns, and starts his journey home.

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Flash Fiction, The adventures of Max

A small mistake.

imagesThe wind blows in my face. It’s quite strong. When I say strong I mean really, really strong. It pushes my eyes open and my mouth wide. I find myself unable to walk forward so I hold onto a large streetlight for dear life. Where did this wind come from, it’s abnormal? As I gaze around it looks like I am the only one affected. A cat leisurely walks past me down the small country road. I see small leaves from a willow-o-wisp tree flutter over my head. How is that even possible when there is such a heavy wind?

Suddenly the wind grabs my feet, picks me up,  and it feels as if I am being pulled by a herculean force. Before I know it my hands can’t bear the strain, and I let go. Now I am being flung into the air. I try to grab hold of something, anything, but the wind rips me away.  Soon the houses look like miniature figurines. The farms and lush hills look like specks of green on a canvas.

I go up an up, until the Earth itself is the size of a round ball that I could pick up and chew. I’m in space, yet unlike the stories I’ve heard my eyeballs aren’t bleeding out of their sockets, I’m not freezing to death, and it feels like I can still breathe.

I travel higher and higher, the higher I go the faster the wind pushes me. I can’t even enjoy the beautiful view of the stars and their solar systems flashing past. It isn’t until there is darkness all around, not a star in sight, does it finally stop. I drop, letting out a shriek more high pitched than a veteran soprano at the Royal opera house.

Just as I feel like I’ll be dropped endlessly a man catches me. Or rather I fall on him, landing into his outstretched arms. He’s holding me bridal style. By the way he’s also naked, which is obviously not the weirdest thing out of all of this, but still pretty weird.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Who am I?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question!” He yells, “What is your name, your birthday and your favourite colour?”

“Huh!?”

“Hurry up, I’m busy.”

“My name is Max Malis, my birthday is October the 31st, my favourite colour is….ummm….grey, I guess.”

“Well isn’t that stupid.”

“Huh!”

“Grey isn’t a colour it’s a shade, dumbass.” His rude reply stuns me into silence.

“Oiii!” he screams into the darkness, “You idiot, you picked up the wrong soul. I’m waiting for a Ray. Take this one back.”

After he finishes yelling he winks at me. “Sorry for all the hassle, just a small mistake. We’ll see each other another time. Bye.”

He tosses me and then I am being blown away again, except this time the wind is taking me down, down and down. We’re going back so fast I black out.

I open my eyes, I find myself in my bedroom, tucked in bed. It’s as if I never put on my uniform and left the house.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” It’s my Mother. She’s standing over me with an annoyed look on her face.

“It’s 9’o’ clock Max, don’t you have school today.” She’s holding the clock to my face, and when I see it, I scream.

Shit.

 

 

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Flash Fiction, The adventures of Max

Fated to be

Max reached his hand out to grab a Haribo packet from the top shelf, yet as his hand touched the sweet packet so did a hand belonging to someone else. Max pulled with all his might, ‘This is the last packet.” he thought, ‘There is no way I’m giving this up, I need to fuel my sweet addiction for today.’

Max turned to face the owner of the hand which was attempting to steal his sweets. Just as he was about to angrily yell ‘try another store’ he was stunned into silence.

“Max, is that you!?” exclaimed the owner of the hand, “Oh my God!! It’s me Tyler! Don’t you remember me!”

Max gasped, how could he forget. It was Tyler his best friend, or more like former best friend. They had gone to the same school since they were young, they had been neighbours, their parents had been friends, they even shared the same birthday. However, Tyler moved away with his family abroad, and Max had been left all alone.

They had exchanged letters but eventually they both got tired of sending them. Now Max was a University Student living in his student accommodation. He had long since believed that they would never meet again, in fact he assumed Tyler had forgotten about him entirely. Yet here they met in an old, run down corner store, like fate was pulling them together.

“Tyler I can’t believe this.”

“What are the chances that we would meet like this Max!”

“Well I always said we were fated to be—”

“Fated to be best friends!!”

 

This is a short 260 word flash-fiction piece I was going to enter into a competition but I ended up submitting a different one instead. This story is also my own secret aspiration, there are a few friends that I have completely lost touch with that I would love to meet again. So I really emphasise with Max. I hope you enjoyed reading this.

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