Short Fiction for Guests of the WordFeeder
Sunday, January 17, 2009
Late Saturday afternoon in the small ballroom of a downtown hotel. Twenty men and women, 25 to 29 years old, are having 5 minute dates. Never married. No children. No religious preference.
Twelve mutually disappointing interviews into the afternoon, “He” pulls out the chair on his side of the circle of small square tables, trying to make eye contact and smiling politely as “She,” the young woman with the small yellow pad and pen sitting across from him, turns over a fresh page.
“What are you drinking?” She thought she would begin with a meaningless question just to make sure her voice was still working.
“Water. ..What about you?” he asked, looking at the pineapple shell on her side of the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a drink with that many umbrellas.”
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