The Chin
A 100-word story for the Nov. 4 fiction prompt
Published in
Nov 4, 2021
I hadn’t seen Reece since we graduated high school ten years ago. I recognized his beady eyes right away, and the way he moved, languidly pushing a loaded cart through Wal-Mart. But something was off.
His chin. It jutted out, goat-like.
“Hi, Reece! How are you?”
“Been doing real good,” but his chin said otherwise.
How do you ask about someone’s enormous chin? I couldn’t do it, but I also couldn’t keep from staring at it through our brief conversation.
Maybe he should grow a beard?
“Been nice seeing you,” he said.
“Yeah, you too,” I said to his chin.
