“Anybody hear anything about Jimmy?” Marco asked.

Nah, you know his wife, Clarice, is a bitch. She wouldn’t call us.

We’re dirt in her eyes. You remember the faces she’d make when we’d be together talking and she’d walk into the cafeteria. She’s a real control freak. She thinks every woman wants her man.

Like, I remember the time we were doing the construction job on 5th Avenue. Ladies passing by dressed in those designer clothes; spiked heels; hair flowing in the wind. She’d come by to bring Jimmy some lunch.

Remember?

She evil eyed those women. Gave me a look like I had cancer.

Fear will do that to a woman. You know she’s jealous of any woman looking his way.

Jimmy got a bum rap. He could’ve had Jeanna. Now, that was a good-looking chick.

“Yeah, I sure hope he survives the fall,” Marco said.

2016©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 148

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Week of 02-23 through 02-29-2016
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