Flash Fiction

“You don’t have green tea?” she repeated.

“No. Just coffee,” Satoshi apologised.

She knew he liked American things, but…

 What must the neighbors think of all this, Yuki wondered.

Here, in the outskirts of Osaka. A Truck. English words. Flags! Even the baseball cap that’d made him look tough when she first met him, now seemed absurd.

  “You don’t drink coffee?”

 She shook her head and grunted. “N.”

  “How about something to eat?”

  She looked at the barbeque grill in the corner.

 “I’ll just take a glass of water,” she sighed.

Hank Williams continued to moan in the background.

(First published in Sonora Review Flash Fiction contest #16)