There is a thing called “Flash Fiction” that is a written piece that tells a complete story in more than 600 words but less than 1200 words. This is not easy to do. This story is 750 words, and I’ll leave it up to you if you think it works or not.

 

Kent opened his eyes when his alarm went off and looked up at the ceiling in his bedroom. Just like the rest of his life, it never changed.  Every morning it was, get up, go to the bathroom, brushed your teeth, make the coffee, and watch the news on TV, while you ate your oatmeal, to see who was killed in the world while you slept.

He put his oatmeal in the microwave oven, got dressed in his overalls, and sat down to eat his breakfast. His mind was blank. He had nothing to think about. He lived alone and never socialized because he was very hard of hearing and consequently he tried not to put himself into a position where he had to talk to people -he couldn’t understand them anyway. At work in the fields, digging potatoes or picking whatever was ripe to be picked at that particular time is where he spent most of his life.

He hurt all of the time. His back hurt, his knees hurt, he was too hot in the summer, and too cold in the winter, but he never complained, it was his life and he was lost in it, he saw no way out. He didn’t watch TV very much, the news depressed him and the other programs showed people being happy, and he couldn’t identify with them at all. They depressed him too.

His only dream was of being happy. “I wonder what it feels like to be happy.” He had no idea. It was his only wish, his only goal, to be happy at least once in his life before he died. He saw no chance of it ever happening – only more of the same, day after day, year after year.

He walked to work in the field. His old car had died a year or so ago. It was only two miles and he was still able to make it, but it did seem a lot longer than two miles, as he walked home after hours of bending, digging, and carrying the containers of goods to the trucks.

“If I could just be happy once, so I would know what it feels like, it would be so wonderful.” He had said so many times to himself, as he did the long walk home, anxious to take his pain pills so he could sleep, and be able to do it all over again the next day.

One day on the walk home. He stopped to buy some more aspirin at the store in the gas station and decided to spend a dollar on a lottery ticket. He had never done that before, he knew he would never win because he had never won anything in his life. So why waste the money, but he did it anyway.

It was two months later when he was eating his oatmeal in the morning, watching the news, when the commentator said that the person that won the lottery had not come forward yet, and they gave the numbers again and said that the ticket was bought in a gas station. Then they gave the name of the gas station. He jumped up. It was his station.

He ran around looking for the ticket and finally found it, and sure enough it was the winner. OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I’M THE WINNER! – It’s wonderful – I actually won something. His whole body was shaking. He was crying, he couldn’t breathe. He was laughing. I’m happy. Oh my God! I’M HAPPY. I’ve won the lottery. This is fantastic.  He sat down in the chair, he was crying, he was laughing, HE WAS HAPPY.

It was a week later when the foreman wondered where Kent was, he hadn’t come to work for a few days and decided to check on him. Kent was never late, and had never missed a day at work before. He was a very dependable person.

When he reached Kent’s house, he found the door unlocked but nobody answered when he knocked, so he went inside, only to find Kent lying in his bed with a smile on his face. On the table next to the bed was a note.

The note said, “I have accomplished my life’s goal. My impossible dream to be happy before I died has come true. I now have experienced happiness beyond belief. I could never be this happy again. The money I have won would only cause me problems, rob me of my happiness, and I would lose this feeling. After careful consideration, I have made the choice to make my dream come true and die happy. “

There was a hole in his forehead from the 22 pistol, on the floor beside the bed.