Sarah Monzon
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The Flash

5/22/2015

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Did you read that title and picture this guy here?
Picture
Flash fiction is a little different. It's a complete story in under 1,000 words. A few months ago, I just couldn't find any time to sit down and work on my current manuscript. So instead of putting away writing altogether, I wrote short flash fiction pieces on my phone while rocking my daughter during her nap (she'd wake up the moment I laid her down so I ended up having to hold her while she slept).

I thought it would be fun to share one of these flash pieces with you. Have fun reading!

Do Not Enter


               It was just a white metal square with black letters. It shouldn't be giving me heart palpitations. But as I stared at the Do Not Enter sign, I felt like I was going to be sick. 

               "You're too good, Grace." Tiffany's words from the night before rang in my head. "You've never once even toed the line, much less crossed it."

               Why did following the rules sound so disgraceful coming from the lips of my free-spirited friend?

               The sign in front of me morphed into another square. This time black with white letters—the kind you hold up at the police station right before they take your mugshot.
I groaned as Tiffany came up beside me and winked. Why had I agreed to this again?


               Tiffany intertwined her fingers with the chain-link fence and gave it a good shake. I cringed as it rattled. Might as well have pulled out a megaphone and announced to the world we were about the break the law.

               "Come on, I'll give you a boost." Tiffany bent at the knees, her daisy dukes riding up even higher on her tanned thighs. She cupped her hands together and looked at me expectantly.
I bit my bottom lip, but put my Toms-clad foot in her palm anyway. With an umph I was up and straddling the fence. One leg a criminal, the other a goody-two-shoes preacher’s kid. I closed my eyes against my father's booming voice in my head about God spewing out double-minded fence riders as I swung my leg over the side and landed with a soft thud on the dirt. Tiffany jumped down beside me, grinning as she brushed off her hands. 


               Huh. Nothing happened. No sound of sirens ripped through the air, no blinding searchlight. Not even lightning from heaven. Had the world not taken notice that Grace McPhearson had not only broken the rules but had done something illegal?

               "This way." Tiffany hurried over to the beige stucco building, rising on tiptoes to peer through the window. She waved me over, put a finger to her lips, and then pointed to the glass. 

               My legs wobbled as I rose up to look inside, the two years of toe dance finally coming in handy. My breath caught in my throat. How could they? Those poor, defenseless creatures.

               Four rows of fluffy white bunnies, their heads shackled in what looked like stocks from the 16th century. Their ears red and charred. Burns? Flesh eating disease? My eyes stung, and I blinked back tears. There were monkeys with open sores and cages of rats with tumors larger than their own bodies. And that was just in the part of the room I could see. 

               Anger coursed through my body. I had worried about trespassing? This was the real crime. No one could treat God's creatures this way and get away with it.

               Tiffany unzipped her backpack and withdrew a camcorder. 

               No way I could stay silent, not now. Wasn’t Dad always telling me God gave Adam dominion over the animals? Somehow I doubted God meant for us to treat them with such cruelty. Steel edged my voice as I spoke. "I'm doing it."

               Her hand stilled. "You sure?"

               I nodded and squeezed my eyes against the negative consequences my actions would have. We could still play it safe. A video on YouTube would get hits. But a video of a famous televangelist’s daughter would go viral.

               An hour later, recording in hand, I marched up the police station steps. The door swung open and a young woman stepped out. I smiled at her but continued into the building and up to the Plexiglas window. 

               "Can I help you?" the uniformed officer asked.

               It was now or never. "I'd like to confess." I held up the disk. “And I brought the evidence.” Repercussions were sure to come…for more than just myself.

 




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    Author

     Carol award finalist and Selah award winner, Sarah Monzon is a stay-at-home mom who makes up imaginary friends to have adult conversations with (otherwise known as writing novels). As a navy chaplain's wife, she resides wherever the military happens to station her family and enjoys exploring the beauty of the world around her.

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