Final Arrangements

Posted: March 28, 2014 in Flash Fiction

The phone rang. Setting down the gray suit jacket, I answered the call. A familiar voice on the other end was screaming with rage, “I told you I wanted blue, you bastard! When the big day got here I want to be in the blue suit!” “I’m sorry, Mr. Harken! The blood wouldn’t come out! You shouldn’t have killed yourself like that!” I stopped, realizing what I had just said – – and who I was talking to. Mr. Harken was being prepared in the other room for tonight’s viewing.

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