Short Fiction –

Her bedroom faced the street. Through the thin walls she could hear tittering coming from the bus stop, like a flock of birds greeting their good morning. The rumble of the school bus came to a screeching halt. The door pulled open and the tittering faded away.

She rolled over and flipped the covers over her head. Sunlight that managed to slip through the blinds disappeared. Heaviness pulled her eyelids closed and within seconds her mind retreated back to imaginary worlds.

A consistent buzz lifted her head from the beneath the blankets. She couldn’t tell if it’d been minutes or hours or if there was a buzzing to begin with. While her face melted back into the pillows she stretched her arm out to grab her phone.

Without her glasses she only vaguely saw the name of her sister, Victoria.

Setting the phone back down, she ignored the missed call and let the heaviness drag her back down. When the buzzing became consistent again, she grabbed her phone. Squinting at the name, she hesitated.

An awkward pang filled her stomach. Victoria was letting her live with her until she could find a job. The least she could do was answer the phone.

She cleared her throat. She said ‘hello’ to herself to hear if she sounded like she was still cocooned in bed.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Anna, I hate to ask, but could you pick the kids up from school? I’m working late again,” Victoria said. “Also, if you don’t mind pre-heating the oven to, I think it’s 400, for the lasagna.”

“Sure,” Anna said

“Really? Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

When the call ended Anna squinted at the time. Two hours until she’d need to leave to be at the school on time. She tossed her phone back on the stand. She flipped over and sighed against softness of her mattress.

The sunlight streamed in brightly.

She closed her eyes and counted to three before tossing her legs over the side of the bed. Her legs trembled as she stood from being relaxed so long. She tore the first page off her notepad and transferred yesterdays to-do list.

Clothes were strewn on the floor and books piled in lines against the wall, while a few toys were left behind by her niece and nephew. She’d meant to organize the room yesterday. For now, she needed to shower.


I’ve been working on certain aspects of a ‘story,’ and this is a focus on character, specifically character flaws. I’m a bit more hesitant to post fiction over poetry, which is odd because poetry is so complex that it drives me insane sometimes.

Can anyone guess her flaw? To me it’s a bit obvious, what do you think?