May, a really short story by Nick Sadler

May

The parade is a washout. So much rain all the drains overflow. Most of the high street is ankle-deep in water. Flowers picked and arranged tastefully on the floats are battered down by the water.

Miss Nowhere takes off her shoes and rolls her jeans up. Everyone else has gone inside. Miss Nowhere walks out, water rippling around her ankles. She sits on the float where the May Queen was supposed to wave to onlookers.

A little boy sitting under a table in the diner at the side of the road is looking at Miss Nowhere. She smiles and waves. The little boy smiles too, then looks away. Miss Nowhere gets off the float and walks back to the pavement.

She puts her shoes back on and goes home. Her apartment is one room, with a double bed, a table and chair. She has a stereo and a computer. No TV. On the table, there is a note that says you are Miss Everywhere to me. It’s from someone a long way away.

Miss Nowhere towels herself dry, then gets into bed and pulls the covers over her head.