I made a screeching U-turn and headed into the parking lot of the pet store. I browsed the cat section for a few minutes. They all looked so cute, especially a sleek Russian Blue with silky gray fur. He looked at me with his green eyes, making an instant connection.
Excerpt from Yoji (click Yoji) by Mark Tulin on Friday Flash Fiction (longer stories).
I fall asleep to the automobile tires spinning on asphalt, the screeching birds overhead, the peddling boys on bicycles churning their spindly legs, and the traffic lights changing from green to yellow to red.
Sometimes when I rode Silver, my dad used to sing “I’m an Old Cowhand” and make believe he was John Wayne just to get my goat. He would call me a “pilgrim” and act like he was a tougher cowboy than me. Once I got mad at him for mocking Tonto and me, and I shot him a couple times with a six-shooter.
We talk about random things: what’s going on with Trump, the latest episode of Baskets, and interesting bits of gossip about the neighbors. We giggle a lot and engage in baby talk. Her four stuffed animals lay in different positions at the foot of the bed.
When Miles arrived at work, the office staff greeted him with funny looks, some were either giggling or bent over in laughter. He checked the fly of his pants, rubbed his mouth thinking that a part of the donut was stuck to his beard.
I was annoyed at seeing the same old family pictures of me in outdated clothing and smiling awkwardly for the camera. My mother always thought I loved looking at myself in my little league baseball uniform or my Cub Scout outfit with all the badges on the shirt.