Flash Fiction

(Also included in the post entitled “The Entertaining Adventures.”)

The boy was sitting silent in the gray corner of the room without a table or a chair for resting. He was promised to a girl, a lovely girl some months younger than he, and she had come wearing a flower in her hair earlier that evening. He had received her warmly then, and the night was filled with a constant hum of noise as they kept themselves always in the company of people, perpetually moved here, moved there, with the simple understanding that the mouth must never pause for too long, since silence was judged an unfashionable thing. And when the hours were finished, the boy escorted the girl to her door and without looking even once at the moon, kissed the flower in her hair and said his goodnight.

Now in the middle of the night he was left to solitude, that lonely and throat-closing state where man converses with his truths in a distractionless white-walled room.

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