Friday, 21 November 2014

Choice without outcome (Flash fiction)

Two objects sit before you: a golden hammer and a cup of what seems to be water. A note on the wall says:“Go ahead, make your choice.The outcome will decide whether you’re ready or not.” Ready for what? What is this place? Why these objects? Which will you choose?

Obviously I choose the cup, and drink the water to the dregs, without thinking. I am so thirsty from all the strenous work that painting the walls is. Where am I anyway? I just got up from sleep and here I am in our garage, with red paint splattered near me, and a brush, supposedly fallen from my hands, has smashed into my old shoes. I look at the hammer sitting in front of me, and the board. For all I know, it is a silly prank by my kid brother. He is reading lots of crazy stuff these days, mystery comics, so I know his mind wanders over the horizon sometimes, and I am his usual playmate. 
I wait for a while to see if the door of the garage opens and he comes in. 

My phone vibrates. 
"Taddadaaaaa," I hear from the other end of the phone and the automatic door starts going up, and I can hear the engine sound of our car getting louder. I get up, place the stool by the wall and wait for my dad and brother. They come sliding in the car. The kid is 5. He has this silly smile over something I don't know what. As the car slows down to finally stop, he jums out of the window into my arms. Hehehehe. I am giggling all over, don't know why. I ask for an explanation to what's written on the board, he says innocently
"Oh, I just learnt the word 'outcome' and 'choice' in school and had to form a sentence using both." I look wide-eyed at him; never in a million year would I have thought this to be the cause of the mysterious warning! And when asked about the hammer, I got to know he golden-sprayed the hammer dad recently used to fix up the garage the other day. 

"Ok, come on, who wants to eat Chinese we just got from Ching's Corner?" Dad says, interrupting our fun conversation. Ching makes the most delicious of all Chinese food in the town. We run to the house, set ourselves on the dining table, as my Mom scolds the little mischievous boy for not washing his hands before a meal. I, in my head, is still stuck at the thought of him writing that note plus arranging the set-up to go with it. For all I know, he is getting a 10 on 10 in English class tomorrow, if not in table manners!

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