Fred

Jenny Mathis

Fred was not the happiest man in Garden Grove. He'd left his broken down car on the 22 Freeway, and he'd walked the last two miles home. His dog had disappeared that morning, and his fish, Mr. Blub looked as if he was coming down with a cold. Fred had bought lunch on his way home and took the first bite of his burrito and could tell they'd ignored his request to leave out the onions. Fred hated onions.

On days like this, Fred knew there was only one thing to do. There came a time in every person's life when enough was enough. He picked up the phone and punched in the number. It rang three times before that familiar voice answered. Fred cleared his throat.

"Mommy?"

Copyright ©1998 Jenny Mathis. All Rights Reserved.

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August, 1998 Issue #28

128 Words

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