100 Words of Fiction – If Only I Could be Young Again


My parents used to tell me that someday I’d wish to be a child again. I thought they were a bit senile. Who would want to live a life with no TV, cell phone or Facebook again? Who wants to fish in clean water, breathe unpolluted air, or play in the middle of the street without harm? Who needs to sleep through a quiet night and wake up refreshed? Who needs simplicity, friends …family? Why would I want to hug my father and mother or tell my brothers and sisters I love them?
“Not me,” said the ignorance of youth.

Monday Morning Blues…

John stood at the window of his fifth floor office and smiled at the traffic on the street below. All those cars speeding past with their Monday morning drivers jockeying for a position nearer to the front of the line. Only to have to slam on their brakes again as the light on the corner of Grand St. turned red. In their eagerness to get to the jobs they hated, they’d start inching forward with each second that passed until the light would turn green and they could stomp on the accelerator to go another ¼ mile before screeching to a stop again on Jefferson.
He turned his attention to a group of little kids in the park across the street. Amused at how they clutched their mother’s fingers with one hand while they tried to toss bread crumbs from the other. Then they would quickly back away and peer out from behind the legs of their protector as the ducks and pigeons scurried forward to snatch them up. Jumping up and down with joy they would point their fingers and giggle at the fascination of it all.
“You know, it really doesn’t take much to make people happy. I sure wish you would have learned that lesson years ago.” John said, as he turned around to look at his lifeless body slumped over the desk. Its face buried in the quarterly reports that just had to be finished. It was still wearing the same suit he had worn to work on Friday.