I haven’t written Flash fiction in a long long time. Just tried my hand at it once again…
It is very difficult to create a scene you want to live in life; a perfectly curated scene straight away taken out of dreams. For everyone once in a lifetime needs that moment which fills their otherwise mundane oblivion with a memory worth a million bucks. Adi was the professional to be contacted for this. Of course her service came at a cost not many could afford. But what customers liked best about her service was ‘No Questions Asked’
Oh! but questions like what is the dream, what it consists of; were the work related obvious but the awkward questions like who is the person you want in the scene, why such a moment etc., were never put forth to judge the moral outcome of the scene. Her job was just to make the dream come true. There were a lot of ‘conditions apply’ too. Complete payment in advance even before you spell out the dream. Vague dreams like ‘I want to be the richest man in the world’, “I want a baby’ would not be entertained. In case of such a request, 10% of the fee paid will be deducted and the rest returned, and for doable ones, there will be no turning back. After all Adi was an expert and knew her market well.
For her the world was divided into two segments – one who could afford her services and the others who did not exist, at least not for her. She made the impossible come alive even though it was unreal, but for a moment the person lived it. She was not God, but then she was nothing less than him.
And then one day she got a request.
It was doable, not vague and the benefiter had paid the entire sum in one go and sent an additional fee for any additional cost incurred. Adi could not get away with anything in her T&C; she had to honour her commitment as it is.
So the entire scene was created. She checked every detail. Nothing escaped her eye, and then he came. The client had received clear cut instructions about how he had to enter. He had to wait precisely 15 seconds before he arrived into the room. The planners and workmen were trained to leave the scene in those fifteen seconds. The footsteps were heavy. They stopped outside the studio door. There was heavy breathing.
15 seconds and the door opened. A whiff of tobacco smoke engulfed the room.
“Yes Dad, I am here.”
“Meeting your own kids is a costly affair, nowadays!”