GLUTTONY (55 words)
Flash fiction by Sacha Chua

“Gluttony is indecent and a catalyst for sin,” said his devoted
mother, measuring rice grains for the famished boy.

“But mom!”

“Forgiving it would be like sending you to hell. No.” She controlled
everything he ate and did.

Eventually she died, still dogmatic and unrepentant. Traumatized, he
satiated himself on junk food. He died obese.

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コンピュータの操作の仕方を知ってますか。 Do you know how to operate a computer.

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DISTANCE
Sacha Chua

The cellphone rang, a welcome interruption cutting through my dreams.
Woke up smiling and reached for the phone by my bed.

It lay still. No missed calls.

The night suffocated me with silence. Curled my fingers around the
phone—around his hand, 3000 miles away—and tried to sleep for the
third time that night.

コンピュータがこの会社に導入されつつあります。 Computers are being introduced into this company.

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“Out to in,” she said earlier; my silent mantra as I contemplated the
bewildering array before me. Chose the outermost.

Her parents were quiet for the rest of dinner.

Waiting for a cab, I flipped through the etiquette book she lent me.
Damn. They skipped a course on purpose. Wrong fork.

Tough, dating a WASP.

– In response to “you had a choice in life, buddy. you came to a fork

in your road, which one did you take?”

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The boy winked before dropping a black beetle on a girl, who screamed
and whirled around to smack him. He dodged and dashed off, glancing
backward, slowing occasionally. She was furious. His grin stretched
ear to ear.

I turned to my wife. “Did I ever…”

“Worse.” She laughed. “Boys are crazy when they’re in love.”

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Burnt the toast. Charred black, three days in a row. He didn’t yell,
didn’t leave; just laughed and told me he’d cook next time. Breakfast
in bed, everything.

He passed the test. Definitely a keeper; he loved me without knowing I
graduated top of my class at Cordon Bleu Academy. Tonight, I’ll
prepare a feast.

– thanks to arion for feedback!

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“Your cat’s vicious.”

“Neko?” I stroked the cat sleeping on my lap. She yawned, stretched,
and curled up around my hand.

“Absolutely antisocial.” He shivered. “Psycho. Pure evil.”

“Nonsense. She’s a darling.” I leaned in and whispered, “Just let her
think she’s boss.”

A hiss and a deep scratch told me I wasn’t quiet enough.

– In response to the “ABSOLUTELY ANTISOCIAL” prompt on the flashxer mailing list

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