(100-word flash fiction)
“Blue or pink?” Her outstretched palm holds two tiny, gleaming globes.
His pulse quickens. She is gazing at him with clouded eyes, her face impassive.
“I hope you’re not trying to kill me.” His laugh sounds fake.
He picks up the pink pill, drops it into his mouth. She does the same with the blue one.
Everything begins to get hazy, the world disappears in slow motion.
Through the haze, her voice cuts through, “I hope you don’t remember anything.”
The room rearranges itself around him, his room from 10 years ago.
Across an ocean, she gets off a bus.
Time travel, anyone? I felt in these troubled times, a bit of magic realism would be fun. It’s good to be back. Hope everyone’s steering clear of the dreaded C virus and getting their shots. Thanks Rochelle, for helping keeping our creative juices flowing.
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