Let Us Remember Saucerman and Bowman

Twitter Fiction Festival Flash Fiction #9. Epitaph by @SarahLoveSager. Fiction by Jennifer Wilson

   the ultimate revenge: staying together, forever. — @SarahLoveSager

S: “You over there, buddy?”

B: “I am.”

S: “I’m here, too.”

B: “Figured that.”

S: “Have a smoke?”

B: “You know I couldn’t pass it if I did.”

S: “Just thought I’d ask.”

B: “…”

S: “Now you’ve gone silent.”

B: “Well, now you’ve got me all riled up. Wishing to smoke.”

S: “That moment when you strike the match, that first fresh inhale …”

B: “You’re not helping.”

S: “I haven’t meant to. What’s life if we can’t torture our best friend.”

B: “…”

S: “Alright, don’t be cross now. How can I fix it?”

B: “How about you tell me about a time when you had a great smoke. Maybe on … one of those fishing trips you once took.”

S: “Ah, you know how I’d like so much to have a smoke in the great outdoors.”

B: “I do know.”

S: “I’d been camping. It was early, early spring. Barely out of winter, and some nights, not even. I’d gone up to northeast, where you can get trout, and the earliest is the best because the cress is fresh and there’s something about the taste that transfers.”

B: “That sounds grand. Go on.”

S: “You’re bossing me.”

B: “Well, you got me wanting to smoke.”

S: “Okay then. I’d set up my tent early and had a nice long walk. I came back and started a fire and I took out my mess kit with the bright intention to cook the fish. Inside, I found a very large pat of fresh butter and a napkin bound in string that contained a portion of salt. Emily had packed them when I hadn’t noticed it.”

B: “And?”

S: “So I ate those trout, and it was as good as you’d think they were, and elevated to the best thing I’d ever eaten, for the love of my woman.”

B: “What I wouldn’t give for a moment with that Emily.”

S: “Watch yourself, friend.”

B: “Well it’s too dark for that. And there now is the matter of my tremendous need for a cigarette, because of your fool mouth.”

S: “So much ire from a dead man! Here. I ate the fish. Then I had the perfect smoke. Every single star was out. I had a tent, and a full belly, and my woman had blessed my trip by packing butter and salt for me. It was then I knew that there was a God, and He wanted nothing but for me to enjoy his Earth and all its wonders.”

B: “ And so? “

S: “So I decided there and then to stay two more nights at least. Maybe another week even. It was heavenly.”

B: “I told her.”

S: “What’s that, old pal?”

B: “I said I told her. A woman who packs her man butter and salt. She hopes it might keep him out a bit longer. Because he has her blessing.”

S: “ … ”

B: : “Just a thought. Have you ever wondered, then, why it was that all your tow-headed babies had a habit of arriving in December?”

S: ” … ”

B: “What I wouldn’t do for a smoke about now. But I’m feeling better every moment.”