FIRST PLACE : FLASH FICTION
FIRST PLACE : FLASH FICTION
out his handkerchief , he polished the chrome framing the side mirror . Next , he kicked gently at a white-walled tire . Our attention was diverted by the sound of a rapidly approaching streetcar . Apparently the last few blocks had been clear of stops . I glanced at my friends : each was grinning in wide-eyed anticipation . I held my breath ; the streetcar crested the hill , struck the iron , and lurched . Seconds later there was a loud pop followed by a flash of blue light ! A scraping of iron wheels on asphalt confirmed we had indeed succeeded . The scraping continued . The streetcar rattled down the hill , gaining speed as it approached the curve past the driveway to the teachers ’ parking lot where Mr . Tinker , in his new Ford , sat waiting for the streetcar to pass before he completed reversing .
Too late he realized the streetcar , on a course independent of its rails , was headed directly for him ! Tires screeched and the car shot ahead . The streetcar entered the driveway . Ahead was the main entrance to the school , behind was a relentless behemoth ! In the middle , Mr . Tinker ’ s new car .
On the hill , five pairs of eyes stared in horror . We wanted to close our eyes to blot out the scene below , but we were also desperately eager to witness the climax .
Mr . T ’ s car bounced over the front step and smashed through the school doors . Splinters of wood rained down , and from inside the school there issued the sound of rending metal . Next , the streetcar smacked into the steps , and its back section , rearing like a bronco trying to dislodge its rider , crashed to the ground sending rainbows of glass shards into the air . Then the streetcar shuddered into immobility .
The conductor stuck his head out the door , looked around nervously , and stepped out . Cautiously , he sat down ever so gingerly on the school step , slowly reached up , removed his cap and began twisting and knotting it while a cloud of dust rose lazily in the clear bright air . Silence descended on the neighbourhood .
Five stupefied faces peered from the hedge as Mr . Tinker emerged blinking from the splintered doorway . Shaking his head in disbelief he carefully picked his way through the maze of splinters and shards to join the conductor on the step where each now sat oblivious of the other .
One man kneaded and twisted a shapeless lump of a cap ; the other slouched carelessly forward , obsessively polishing a chrome-sided mirror .
Never had there been a Saturday matinee to equal this .
news & views WINTER 2016 | 45