Off late, I’ve been obsessed with experimental flash fiction, and wanted to give it a go. This is the piece I liked the best among all my drafts, and although not entirely experimental or ‘nueve’, I still wanted to give it a shot. Here it is:
It’s funny how quiet the mind gets when it is serenaded by greenery all around. I was walking down Strawthorn Road today morning as I saw what seemed to be a glinting piece of silver on the floor. I was getting late for my lecture on ‘Literature and Race’, and wanted to just stray away from the silvery white thing that was gleaming at my face. Muttering under my breath, I looked at my watch and with a few quick calculations, was convinced that I could make it to the class on time if I skipped the drill of my third coffee. Skipping coffee. That’s work by itself. “This following silver reflection better be good,” my head told me.
The Avenue was so calm and a sudden rush of cold breeze lit up my cheeks. I bent down to get a closer look at the shiny object, that seemed to have effortlessly got my attention. With a twig, I poked around. What I saw, shook the shins out of me. If it was a coin, I was going to turn it into the police and ask them to report it under ‘Lost and Found’, but this was no coin or piece of silver. It was this slithery vicious-looking baby animal, that looked scared to wits’ end, slinking away from me as fast as it could. It was no bigger than my palm, and had eyes that were blue beaded and still. The stillness of its pupils shook me, but it was soon replaced by an excited chill down the spine. I don’t know how I found the courage, but I moved my hand towards it. It was a big beetle. I was no whatever-ologist. I didn’t know what species this was, but it mimicked me. I cocked my head to the right, and so did it. It was bizarre, and scary. I wanted to drop it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. It held on to me for dear life. Somehow, this inspired a tranquility, a sense of protection. I wondered why it stuck to me. What did it possibly see in me? Did it want me around? Was I supposed to be its companion? I wanted to throw it away, why is it not letting me go? I soon realised that these were not questions I had to ask the beetle. It was meant for something else. I mean, someone else.