Flash Fiction: Pomegranate
Pomegranate © Piero Percoco
The deli owner could hear the noises coming from the apartment above. It was 11B again.
"Again with texting bitches. I thought we got past it!"
Amanda threw the phone across the room, whizzing past David's head.
She picked up a coffee-table book, but thought it was too heavy and put it down.
"I swear we just work together. She's just a co-worker."
"Bullshit! Last one was a co-worker too"
Amanda opened the fridge, scouting for another ‘bullet.’
The deli owner heard the whistling sound in the air.
In front of him, a fruit he sold an hour ago landed onto a car's windshield.
What a waste, he thought.
You can see more of Piero Percoco's works here.
