AUTHOR’S NOTE: The draws for the September Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were: A Comedy, involving a Pile of Books, set at a County Fair. Enjoy! ——-jeff

Harm to My Wit

by Jeff Baker

“I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.” —–Shakespeare, Twelfth Night.

“Okay, nothing in there,’ Andy said. “Hey, you got a sandwich?”

Andy Freeloch was sitting in the cramped back room of the big tent his Dad and Uncle were using as the booth for Freeloch’s Sandwich Emporium at the Lebsack County Fair. There were books piled on the little table and a couple of couple of spiral notebooks and a canned soda.

“Sure,” John Rey Smith said pulling out a bag. “Roast beef, onions, hot off the grill. You making any progress?”

“Not really,” Andy said. “School reports were a lot easier. Work stuff, especially when this stuff probably isn’t on the internet.”

“Definitely not on the internet, if you can’t find it,” John said.

“Yeah,” Andy said, munching the sandwich. “You turn off the grill?”

“Yeah,” John said. “Cleaned it off and everything. Here, let me help you with that thing.”

John pulled one of the little chairs over and picked a stack of books off one side of the table.

“Hold it! HOLD IT!!!” Andy yelled. Too late. The table, now heavy with books on only one side, fell over, toppling the books. Andy grabbed his spiral notebook and pen and stood over the toppled table and piled books looking like a makeshift Statue of Liberty.

“Uh, ‘scuse me guys?”

John and Andy looked up. There was a guy standing there, not much older than they were. He had slicked back hair, glasses and was wearing jeans and a blue denim shirt.

“Uh, I’m Trevor, I’m on the prison road crew, the guys sent me over to ask. We saw your sign saying Smoked Meats. You got any cigarettes? Oh, you’re busy.”

They stared at him for a minute. Trevor shrugged and waked back outside.

“Okay,” John said. “Gonna be one of those days.”

—end—