Anton

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

In class discussion groups, he was primarily interested in being The Smartest Kid In The Room, even if it meant being colossally wrong about certain things (his insistence that both Ben Franklin and Henry Kissinger had been President of The United States, for example.) Ideas like ‘correct’ or ‘incorrect’ as they related to facts, seemed lost on him. At least he felt very hostile to these ideas. What mattered to Anton was people paying attention to him, his precocity.

Anton’s Parents had lived around New England, leaving trails of bad vibes in their wake. At one point, they “lost” their daughter, Isis, who was presumably living with friends in Albany, Vermont. The story changed every time.

Anton was grinding his skateboard in the road. 2AM. Black trench coat. Black pants. Black Doc Martens. He looked like a giant black bowling pin with his huge ass and wide feet.

A car hit him in the crosswalk. Killed him.

Was his last thought on Earth, “It’s not my fault?”

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