Frank held onto grudges like a miser with money and he was rich with them. His latest was with the small electrical shop, Volts, hidden down the backstreets of town.
“I want a refund!” Frank dumped a shopping bag on the counter. Broken clogs, dials,
and bits of wires spilled out. “Cheap imported stuff! Started playing up after a couple
of decades.”
The young sales assistant peered into the bag.
“What is it?”
“What is it? You only sold it to me yesterday!” Frank snorted and slapped a receipt on the counter. “A bloody time machine that’s what it was supposed to be!”
The sales assistant’s Adams apple bobbed when he spoke.
“Like, as in an alarm clock?”
“Are you dumb?” Frank peered closely at the assistant. “You had a beard yesterday. It made you look much older.”
The sales assistant stammered. “I only started today.”
Frank's eyes widened.
“What year is this?”
“2024.”
“Blast!”
The bell above the shop door jingled as Frank stormed out with his bag. Two decades of grudges against poor workmanship, cheap parts, and ‘Volts’ electrical store stretched out before him, again.
Lorna Stewart lives on a narrowboat in the UK and enjoys writing flash and micro fiction. She has had some success with The Drabble and 81 Words and has been shortlisted in several competitions.
This story was shortlisted in the April 24 Monthly Micro Competition.