Ash's Garage
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Ash's Garage

Flash Fic Month — July 6, 2022

Here's day 6 of 31! :)

Mr. and Mrs. Persaud arrived in the neighborhood nearly thirty years ago to the day. From the moment they set foot here, they forever changed the lives of their neighbors.

Mr. Persaud was a quiet and gentle person. If there were superlatives for neighbors, he would have been voted “Most likely to mow your lawn/rake your leaves/shovel your sidewalks.” He kept his home in pristine condition, painted more brightly and vividly colored than anyone else. Painted yellow, blue, and white, their house was often used as a reference point when giving directions. If you’ve gone past the house that reminds you of a day at the beach, you’ve gone too far.

Mrs. Persaud was much more outgoing. The scent of her cooking and baking would permeate a radius outside of their house, inviting even the pickiest eaters to wonder what she had prepared that day. She was generous and would feed the neighborhood kids and their friends if they so much as mentioned food around her.

The two became a beacon of kindness here, a beautiful example for the young ones and older folks alike. It almost seemed as if they had always been here — that there would be no neighborhood without them.

Not long after they celebrated their 30th year in the neighborhood, did the neighborhood hear a resounding shriek. An ambulance arrived at the Persaud’s doorstep. A tense silence descended on the neighborhood.

A week had passed since the incident. Mrs. Persaud was less interested in cooking. She was often seen walking along and helping her husband with his yard work. One particular spring day, she struggled with the lawn mower’s engine and called out to a neighbor for help.

The teen, tasked with maintaining the yard on his spring break, had been rearranging the same three solar-powered lights on his parents’ walkway. At Mrs. Persaud’s call, he jumped up right away.

He made sure the gas tank was sealed tightly and pulled the start cord. With a roar, the lawnmower came to life. Mrs. Persaud thanked him profusely — he was certain that her eyes had gone misty.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. P, how come Mr. P wandered off to the backyard and left you to mow the front?”

She looked at him, eyes wide. She had gone pale at his words. She took a deep, shuddering breath, “Oh, dear. Mr. Persaud gone home last week.” The look of confusion on the teens face prompted her to speak once more. “He passed away last week.”

Thanks for reading!

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Ash Anthony (they/she)

Ash Anthony (they/she)

Hi, I’m Ashley and I make art sometimes. I completed a 100 day project called #100DaysofStickyNoteStories about.me/tripleawesomeart