On my way home yesterday, I received a blessing (and I’m not even Catholic). A man driving a flat-bed truck had lost a rear wheel in the middle of Don Tyson Parkway. I stopped to see if I could be of any assistance, but two young black men had already arrived to save the day.
These guys were wearing baggy pants, hoodies, and sunglasses—not your typical angel attire—but I’m sure to the guy needing help they appeared to swoop down from heaven on folded wings bearing lug wrenches of gold. The miracle was seeing this happen in a city that was a “Sundown Town*” during my childhood. Maybe there’s hope for the human race after all.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, our resident angel (who never worked for Charlie) is Sabrina Duncan Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast
“Well, hello,” said the brunette. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
The redhead grinned. “You don’t think we’ve been set up, do you?”
“It looks that way.” The brunette smiled and repositioned her sunglasses atop of her head.
“What did he promise you?”
“He said he’d been having lingering visions. Appearing here would introduce a new audience to my writing. I’d hit the BIG Time.”
“Pretty much the same line he fed me. Kept repeating tales from the motherland and insisted I click the clown’s nose.”
“I can’t believe he used us like this.”
“Oh, he’ll pay—BIG Time.”
* Sundown Town refers to signs that were posted stating that colored people had to leave the town by sundown.
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