Ficlets

There's No Cake in Prison

“You’re at 8th and Manchester, you just jumped out of that window, there.” The woman pointed to a fifth story window, now broken. “Do you need an ambulance?”

Angelo slowly got up, besides skinned hands and some sharp pain in he knee, he felt fine. More like he had tripped on the sidewalk rather than falling five stories from a building.

“No, I’m fine.” He said in a dazed voice. “How could you be? I mean, you should be dead!” The woman was incredulous.

“Well, I was dreaming and—” Suddenly the sound of sirens in the distance caused the woman to startle. “You better get out of here, right away! The Metro Police are coming!” She said hurriedly and then darted down an alley. Angelo slowly turned around to find the source of the sirens and saw…

Well, it appeared to be a vehicle. It had wheels at least. But it also appeared to have arms. Angelo vaguely recalled a robot that he saw in a 1980’s sci-fi flick. George? Ed? Something like that. A deep male voice eminated from the machine. “You are under arrest.”

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