Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your weekly dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.
This week’s entry: Thin threads
There is only a door between us, Kyle thought. You the successful entrepreneur. And me the dumbass in torn clothes you fucked over.
On the other side of the glass door a man smiled at his visitors. All the higher-ups. They belonged to Kyle’s father. They belonged to Kyle.
“I will show you…” Kyle whispered. “I will have my revenge. You will pay for all you have done to me.”
The man on the other side of the glass door suddenly saw Kyle and an unease fell over his face. One second later the smile was back as he greeted the next investor. As they walked further in through the lobby the man caught a guard. One whisper and a nod later the guard was on his way towards Kyle.
“Good morning Simon.” Kyle said as the guard opened through the door.
“Mr. Rose.” The guard sighed. “You know you can’t be here…”
“I can be where ever I want to be Simon!” Kyle screamed.
“No you can’t Mr. Rose.”
“I don’t care Simon. That man killed my father. He stole my home from me. I will never let him get away with it!”
The guard sighed. “Your father wouldn’t have wanted this from you.“
Kyle suddenly lost his furious energy. “No.” He said. “Even after the divorce and even after I took my mother’s name he kept me close.“
The guard put his arm around Kyle’s shoulders. “He wanted you to fulfill your true potential.”
“But how could I ever do that. I live on the street. My clothes are torn beyond recognition, and that man walks around living my life!” Kyle took a long deep breath. “The other hobos say my sanity is even thinner than my threads.”
“I didn’t see you at the funeral.“ The guard tried to change the subject.
“I couldn’t go there, not like this.” Kyle showed of his shirt and jeans barely holding together. “That would have been disrespectful. Who came?”
“Everyone close to Mr. Diamond was there.” The guard helped Kyle down the stairs. “You know what? I will have dinner tonight with some friends. Why don’t you join us?”
Kyle looked hesitantly at his old friend.
“The place we are going to won’t mind your new found sense of fashion, sir.” The guard acknowledged. “And these friends have been longing to meet you after all this time.”
“They have?” Kyle said.
“Yes.” The guard handed Kyle a note. ‘Not a bar’ it said and an address. “We are planning the future.”
Kyle looked at the note. “The future?”
“Yes, the future.” The guard smiled. “I hear it will be hot.”