She sits between her husband and her brother-in-law, all of them strapped inside the gigantic red metal ride that’s attached to a sky-high pole. It’s an action shot someone snapped on their way up. Six legs dangling, the men’s feet in socks, hers barefoot. All three faces have the same giddy expression. I am jealous. I wish I were having some barefooted fun at a carnival. I see her the next day in the hallway.
"I saw your pictures on Facebook."
She stops and smiles. "Oh, you mean from the carnival."
"Yes. I saw you, your husband, everyone. Your daughter was on the kiddie rides. Everyone looked like they were having such a good time!"
"Yeah, yeah, it was fun," she answers stone-faced.
"Oh," I say, nodding nervously.
"Look," she says. "I’ve got to run. I’ll be back in an hour."
I watch her sprinting down the hallway, her long hair swinging behind her. She turns the corner, her high heels clicking loudly. So much for barefooted fun.
Welcome Chrissi Seppe! Thank you for participating in Flash Fiction Friday. This piece is a good reminder that things aren't always as they appear ...