Flash Fiction, Shorts

Trapped

Henry was a mime, and a pretty good one, mind you. He would practice his expressions in the mirror, go through his routines, and read Miming Monthly for tips and tricks of the trade. One day, he was miming downtown in front of the courthouse. He had his top hat set upside down for tips, and ran through his miming routine. Soon there was a decent-sized crowd watching and laughing. Henry got to the end of his routine and bowed, and they all clapped. Some threw change or dollar bills in his hat, and some lingered, waiting for him to start again, but most of the crowd had gone.

It happened when Henry went to collect his tips. He tried to walk forward, but was stopped by some invisible force, like he had run into a wall. He put his hands up and tried to force his way forward, but it was no use. He tried to go to the left, around the invisible barrier, but ran into it again. Henry quickly found that he was trapped in some sort of invisible box. There was a little girl watching while holding onto her mother’s hand. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Henry banged a fist on the invisible wall and yelled out, “Help me! I’m trapped in here.”

The little girl walked up to him, stuck out her lower lip, and said, “You’re not supposed to talk.” Then she picked up a dollar from his hat and walked back to her mother, who had a look on her face like she was smelling something unpleasant. He called after them, begging for help, but they didn’t look back.

No one listens to a talking mime.

 

 

 

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