Flash Fiction: The Standoff
Bobby was playing superhero again. At this point, Tasha wasn’t going to do anything to stop him. She wasn’t going to stop him from running through the neighbor’s gardens, from breaking their windows, from scratching their cars with his sword. The poor woman was tired.
Tasha watched from the safety of her house, cradling her coffee in her hands. How did she get to this point in her life? What had she done to deserve this? She did not know.
But there was one thing she did know: she never should have bought a thirty-year old man that costume for his birthday.
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