Performance Review (Flash Fiction)

(by Daniel R. Jones)

Rick Townsend shifted uneasily in an office chair as his supervisor eyed a stack of papers.

“Generally speaking, Rick, this is a good report. You’ve got a knack for logistics. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Warehouse Manager with such an intuitive grasp on efficiency and decision-making.”

He tossed his stack of papers down and removed his bifocals. Rick’s jaw clenched.

“Of course, there was that stack of pallets knocked over by your forklift driver last month.” 

A pause.

“But hey, we’re all human.”

Rick swallowed hard. He inhaled deeply and let the algorithm work it out for him.

If (sentence proceeded by laughter) then (joke)
Else (not joke)
End If
      If (intonation on last syllable is raised) then (question)
      Else (not question)
     
End If
          If (English Idiom detected) then (not literal.)
         
End If
               Searching Language>English>Idioms and Colloquialisms>North American…

Rick nodded. 

“We are,” he said. “That we are.”

****************

(As a reminder, I’m currently on the lookout for short stories and flash fiction variety done well. Literary Fiction, SciFi, Fantasy; you name it. If you think your story might fit the bill, check out the submission guidelines and send it my way)

View from the Window (poem)

(by Daniel R. Jones)

Just out the door is a stream that spills downward
into a brass bowl of a pond.
It serves as home to scores of bluegills,
fit for frying, if you can catch and clean as many.

And if you were to head due west 
two and three-quarter miles,
you’d find a farmer leaning against his split rail fence,
looking over some fifty head of cattle.

Nearby, his son is turning in from mucking the stalls.
He stands barefoot on the grass, 
clapping the heels of his work boots together,
deriving strange satisfaction with each dirt clod he loosens.

If you could climb in the cockpit of a crop duster,
southern Indiana would spread out beneath you like a quilt,
with patchwork fields every shade 
of gold and green and brown.

But if any of this is true, I am oblivious to it.
My day was made of spent toner cartridges,
the taste of no. 9 commercial envelopes,
and flickering, fluorescent light.