Bus by Matt Potter

Packing it was like playing tetris. One thing on top of another, building layers, my multi-coloured life seen through the large windows of a 35-seater bus.

“It’s not working,” Veronica said. “There’s no way we’ll make the emergency evacuation queue in time, Dad.”

I studied her fifteen-year old face, seeing nothing similar between us. She looks just like her mother, I thought, whomever the anonymous egg donor was.

“That’s very obsessive compulsive gay,” she added. “You can’t take a chandelier on an emergency dash across a nuclear desert.”

Ah, but her eloquence! That she gets from me.

The back door slammed as Marvin stepped outside.

“Dad wants to pack a chandelier in the event of a nuclear attack,” Veronica said. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Could it be used for something besides providing an elegant setting for dining?” Marvin asked, stroking his beard. “Multi-purpose objects should be given a chance to prove their manifold uses.”

Veronica threw her hands in the air. “Neither of you are taking this seriously,” she said. “You think it’s a joke.”

She walked away and stood against the fence post, arms folded, scowling. My heart thumped in my chest. Times like this I truly loved her, her grumpy teenage face a life force.

I walked over and put my arms around her. “What do you want me to take out?” I said softly.

She leaned into my shoulder. “Those caftans for a start,” she said. “Except the white one. That could work well at a post-apocalyptic toga party.”

.

Return to This Week’s Flash

6 Comments

Filed under Matt Potter

6 responses to “Bus by Matt Potter

  1. Having 3 teenage daughters I’ve found it fascinating to see how their senses’ of humor have developed. Thank you for capturing that in prose. Cheers.

  2. deepee

    I agree..lots ‘o’ fun!

  3. Ganymeder

    Like father, like daughter. I also found her grumpiness and their banter endearing. Well done!

  4. Great last line. Priorities, priorities… our differences make the world go round. Peace…

  5. Really well done, Matt, exposing the thread of love and family.

  6. Pingback: Week #23 – long lines « 52|250 A Year of Flash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s