Flash Fiction: The Tray

Welcome to another drabble, inspired by Charli’s rather dark wanderings down a rabbit hole that leads to a hypothetical future and this prompt over at Carrot Ranch: In 99 words (no more, no less) go down the rabbit hole to a place where art is not allowed.

For some reason I’ve been going to school settings lately. Hmmm.

The Tray

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Riley sneaks down the hall—why isn’t he outside for recreation?

I hurry over to him. “What are you doing?”

He adjusts something in his shirt.

“What is that?”

He stares up at me, pleading.

“Riley.” I hold out my hand.

He removes his cardboard lunch tray, where he’s painted a rainbow.

“How did you do this?” Art is forbidden—he could be expelled.

“I used my food.” He points to the colors. “Mustard, berries, Jell-o.” His lip quivers. “Throw it away. Please, don’t report me.”

“I won’t.” I run my fingers over his masterpiece. “Can I keep it?”

 

6 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: The Tray

  1. Pingback: Without Art « Carrot Ranch Communications

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