Micro stories

# Key

The Key went out the window and so did my heart.

Ignoring the searing pain in my chest I threw a scorching glance at the bully and ran outside to look for the Key.

That Key was my mother's. I have kept it close to me all my life, especially because she is no more around.

As I search the area it could have landed in, I see a woman dressed in white bending down and picking it up.

"Excuse me" I call out. I'll be damned if I let anyone else take it from me.

She turned towards me and I skidded to a halt.

"Mom?"

She looked as young as her pictures that I had with me.

"How?"

With a sad look she said," I am sorry I had to leave. If I could I would have come back."

No one could have angered me more with that generic response.
So I snatched the key from her, replied, "It's too late now" and ran back inside.

I agree now that it was an idiotic emotional response but it seemed apt then.

As I was entering, the bully who had thrown my key, ran out of the house, terrified, paying no attention to me.

Confused, I peeked inside. I lay on the floor eyes wide open.

My mother floated up to me. "Yes, It's too late for you now. Come with me."

"Bloody hell. That chest pain was a heart attack."
...