A close-third dual narrative allows a writer to tell two sides of one story, delving into the age-old question: Is the grass indeed greener on the other side? “Rules of Serving” by Coleman Bigelow is a playfully rendered flash fiction that explores the rather serious matters of divorce and desire. See if you can catch every cleverly nuanced double entendre. —Court Harler
As Georgina pours more wine and pulls the plastic off a fresh pack of Parliament Lights, she wonders what game her handsome neighbor will be playing solo tonight. The clanging of a horseshoe answers. There’s something oddly satisfying about the sound of metal hitting stake. She sips and stares at the river that borders the backyards of all the tightly packed properties on Arbor Street—a collection of multifamily houses also known as “Divorce Row.”
Freddy has recently bought an entire collection of lawn games at an estate sale. He hopes one of his two daughters will want to play if they ever come to visit. His neighbor is dragging a lawn chair around and cigarette smoke wafts above the dividing fence. Freddy ponders whether she’s sending him signals. He’d first encountered her as she was stretching on the front steps. Freddy was carrying a depressingly small bag of single-man groceries from his car and he thought he’d noticed her performing an extended hamstring stretch. Just as he was about to go inside, she’d shot him a sexy, big-toothed smile. Now, she’s always coming out back when he does, and no children have come to visit her either.
Georgina’s tired of driving to different towns to meet men who glance at their phone before sitting down. Now, whenever she hears her dark-eyed neighbor popping open a beer, she does a silent “cheers.” She feels like a stalking cat. Pictures them both prowling their side of the fence, keenly aware of the heat and life bleeding through.
Her neighbor must have been hitting whiffle balls because there’s one on her side. Her fingertips are just high enough to reach above the fence top.
“Lose something?”
“Oh, thanks.” His bushy hair grows visible, then his fingers are taking the ball, grasping her hand. Holding it for a just a moment.
Freddy’s grilling steak and thinking of sex. He misses cooking for more than one. His ex didn’t care for red meat, but she loved when he cooked. While he waits for the coals to get hot, he grabs a badminton racket and starts wandering, ponging a shuttlecock up and down.
“Okay, this is getting pathetic,” Georgina chides in a sultry tone. She presses a hand against the fence. Rubs her fingers against the splintering wood. “You can’t play badminton by yourself.”
Freddy lets the shuttlecock drop. “You’d be surprised what I can do by myself.”
Georgina flushes. “That may be, but some things are better with a partner.”
“Fair enough,” Freddy replies, returning to the grill to blow on the coals. “Do you like steak?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?” Georgina winces after unconsciously reciting one of her ex’s favorite retorts.
“Great. Come on over,” Freddy says, trying not to sound too thirsty.
“I’ll bring some red wine.” Georgina prays her offering will pair well.
COLEMAN BIGELOW’s writing has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfiction; and longlisted for the Wigleaf Top 50. His latest game-themed flash fiction collection, These Stories Are Catching, is available now from Bottlecap Press.
Featured image by Saif71.com, courtesy of Unsplash.
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