FAIRY TALES, SHORT FICTION AND POEMS

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There is such sort of fiction as flash fiction. I'd want to represent here a variation on this theme. This short story is not actually flash fiction - it's a chain of small bright flashes... of the sun.

THE DANCING SUN

***

Tim lived in a small flat, at the edge of a huge city. Every morning he would dress in his grey suit then stop by his window, where the sun would be richly lighting the whole neighborhood block. The warmed air stirred putting the glare in motion. It looked like a golden river or a mystical dance of sun rays. Tim often tried to guess the melody of the dance but... just as it starts sounding real, as something disturbs him. For instance now he should go to his office.

***

Natalie likes a cozy cafe nearby a city park. Every evening she usually stopped by there. This particular evening she bought a tumbler of orange juice and sat down at a table that had a view of the park.

Initially sun rays hardly touched tree tops but then a breeze sprung up and a golden flame enveloped the leafage. The trees cheered up, as if they suddenly remember something, and start to sway strewing sunny splashes.

Natalie didn't know exactly what the trees were remembering. Her tumbler became empty leaving shining drops of juice on the brim.

***

It was too stuffy in Tim's office. He opens a window. A stream of cars was slowly moving beneath. The sun was dancing on their polished roofs. That was indeed "that" same dance – lazy and full of internal power... Suddenly a music began to sound. It corresponded to the dance rhythm so much that Tim stood motionless for a while. The music he heard was from somewhere on a sidewalk below and he hurried to the street.

A nice girl with a shining silver saxophone stood by the brick wall. Old jeans and white blouse dressed her slender figure. Her beautiful features expressed elegance and peace. Delicate fingers now rested, then revived on keys... The melody was soaring over the street and all the surroundings seem to be just glares on its surface.

***

The evening brought long-waited coolness painting the warm streets with soft colors.

Tim was speaking something. Natalie stared at him through a tumbler with orange juice and smiled. The sun was dancing its evening dance behind the window of the cozy cafe.

A flash fiction story

Once at a subway station