Flash Fiction: The Floating Man
©Kira Gyngazova
Written by Emma Elizabeth Mathes
At the country club, there is always a band. Dressed in white jackets and black slacks, they play for hours with no rest; soldiers for the upper class. They love their work: they’re paid handsomely to provide the jazzy background music behind rich people’s bickering. No one asked for them, but still, they take their assignment seriously.
So when Marie pushed the trumpet player in the pool, in response to a triple-dog-dare, no one was surprised when he didn’t miss a note. He floated in the shallow end, using his trumpet as a snorkel, not missing a note of his solo.
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