Flash Fiction assignment from my online “Writerrific” course. Criteria: stay under 500 words, incorporate dialogue, and end it with a twist.
WHAT ABOUT BOB?
Mary frowned at the mirror, fed up with Bob. Their relationship had begun after Mary complained to her friend, Amy, how bored she was with Shaggy.
“No wonder,” Amy said. “It’s been, like, four years! Maybe it’s time to change it up. How about…” She scrolled through her SmartPhone, stopping on a photo of Bob. She held it up, allowing Mary to see how sleek and cosmopolitan he looked.
“Adorable, but what about Shaggy?” Mary said. “I might lose those sweet eight inches forever. I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”
“Who said anything about committing? Be daring! If it doesn’t pan out, there are others.” Amy lived by that motto; she swapped them like trading cards. Mary had never seen her with the same one twice. Amy snapped her gum and waited for an answer.
Mary sighed and took the plunge. When Amy introduced them, it was love at first sight. Mary had walked away floating on air. She recalled the clerk at the bookstore telling her how cute they looked together.
For the next few weeks, they were inseparable. But soon Bob began to get on Mary’s nerves. He was high-maintenance. If she spent too little time with him, he became downright unruly. Mary knew it wasn’t going to work, but breaking the news to Amy would be awkward.
Mary stopped by Amy’s workplace the next day. “Bob has got to go.”
“It seemed like such a good match,” Amy protested.
“At first, but now it’s like living with an octopus… sweaty tentacles brushing up against my neck all day long. I’m sorry, Amy, I just can’t stand it.”
“Perhaps you’ve outgrown him,” Amy said. “But no worries, I’ll take care of it and it’ll be like, POOF, it never happened.”
“Things will never be the way they were,” Mary said.
“There’s no need to state the obvious,” Amy snapped. “If you can’t go back, you gotta move forward.” She grabbed for the SmartPhone again. There must have been a thousand photos in her scroll. She stopped and passed the phone to Mary. “A little short,” Amy said, “but get a load of that body!”
Mary looked and felt her resistance weakening. “Alright,” she agreed. “Fix me up.”
Amy’s scissors flashed and snipped, sending a cascade of hair down the plastic cape and onto the floor. She worked in a blob of mega-gel and spun Mary around to face the mirror. “Goodbye, Bob…” Amy sang. “Helloooo, Spike!”
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