Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. 

This is the first installment in Afterburn SF’s Wednesday Flash Fiction series.  Fiction under one thousand words delivered right to your digital doorstep.  Please share with your friends, family and followers.

If you have a flash fiction piece of your own to contribute, please review the submission guidelines and fire away!  We’d love to feature your work here.

Effective Appetite Suppressant

By Nat Thompson

Ed arrived in a well worn yellow cab. He check the address against the one he had scrawled in black on his left palm. Satisfied he was at the right place, he paid the driver through the slot in the divider and climbed out onto the sidewalk. From his diminished vantage point he could only see the peaked roof of the cottage beyond the picket fence. He waddled to the gate and after a moment’s struggle managed to get it open.

Once inside the yard he could appreciate the full view of the house in front of him. A plum colored walk ran from the gate to the front of the cottage. Dark chocolate shingles covered the roof. White latticework frosted the windows. In the center of the house a robin’s egg blue door stood out boldly from the light brown walls.

A single step lead from the walk to the front stoop. Ed’s short legs made stair climbing difficult. He was thankful there was only one. Once on the stoop he set down his case and took a dingy, sweat stained rag from his back pocket. He used it to wipe the beads of perspiration from his bald scalp. That done, he crumpled the rag back into a rough ball and replaced it in his pocket.

He knocked twice. From inside the cottage he heard the slow, heavy footsteps of someone moving towards the door. Ed’s eyes went wide as it opened. A wrinkled, bent, crone of a woman stared out at him from the dark interior of the cottage. She leaned all of her ample weight on the gnarled cane in her right hand. Her crooked nose sported a dark brown mole and her skin had a sick pale green color to it.

“Yes?” she asked. Her voice creaked in a way that made Ed’s skin crawl.

“I’m the personal trainer you called for,” Ed said.

“You? But you’re a-a…”

“Goblin, yes ma’am.”

“Pardon me, but what does a goblin know about personal training?”

“Not a whole lot I’ll have to admit. However, we are extremely well adapted to helping people get fit.”

“And how exactly do you do that?”

“Oh, it’s simple really. We chase our clients around trying to bite them. That takes care of the exercise part. Then we spit on their food. Goblin spit has proven VERY effective as an appetite suppressant.”

“I see.”

“Now if you’ll just sign here we can get started.” Ed took a clipboard and pen from his case and handed them to the crone. She eyed him warily but signed the paper and returned it. Ed examined the document for a moment, making sure everything was in order. “Excellent!” he said and tucked the clipboard and pen back into his case.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

The crone nodded, not exactly sure what to expect. Ed rubbed his hands together and sunk his pointy yellow teeth deep into the crone’s left knee.

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