The Motspur, microfiction by Victoria Melbourne at Spillwords.com
Charles Etoroma

The Motspur

The Motspur

written by: Victoria Melbourne

 

Just look at them… so conforming, uniformed and serious. I know they are confused by me, and if they were honest they’d say they detest me. I represent everything they find abhorrent; free will.

‘Go right’ the woman indicates with a jerk of the handlebar, and instinctively the three of them swing right in unison. Responsive and eager to please. I have no such desire to please. I care not if this woman wants to go right. I refuse to be dragged with them just because there is more of them than me. I stop myself from turning. Fasten hard into my caster. The more the woman pushes the other three, the more rigid I become.

They scream at me to move, to turn right, to adhere to the rules set out for us, but I can tune them out. All I hear are Christmas songs and the tannoy asking for help in aisle 3. Then I realise I’m in aisle 3…. I’m the problem….

 

*   Motspur – the dodgy wheel on a shopping cart

Victoria Melbourne

Victoria Melbourne

I'm new to flash fiction and loving it! I'm living out my middle age just outside London. Close enough to the Capital to be exorbitantly expensive, but too far out to risk missing the last tube home.
Victoria Melbourne

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