Under a Dark Grey Sky
flash fiction | spontaneity
Manny pulled his hand off the front door handle and spun around. “Stop telling me how to live!”
Ginnie’s mouth dropped. “I’m trying to help.”
Manny paused, lowered his shoulders, and softened his voice. “Look, Gin, I know your heart is in the right place, but you’re too stuck in trying not to die.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The bug spray, our bicycle helmets, keeping Joanna out of trees because she might fall—it’s a never-ending campaign against living.”
Ginnie looked perplexed.
“You sacrifice spontaneity,” he said, gesturing to the world outside. “You treat everything as a hazard to manage instead of just a chance to experience. You don’t always need perfect prep, or a class, or the right gear at first. Sometimes you just have to step out, and take some risk. That’s just living.”
Ginnie said nothing. She lifted the hooked-handle from beside the door.
“So…” she said softly. “You don’t want this?”
Manny looked out past the porch at the heavy, dark grey sky. He looked at Ginnie. He looked at the umbrella.
He let out a long breath. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
by George Alger
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