Fresh FIction Box Not To Miss
Flo Fitzpatrick | An Excerpt from Scarecrow’s Dream
Excerpt / July 28, 2016

The lights came on and I whirled around. A short, plump woman in her early seventies, with a mass of auburn-and-white hair untamed by a blue crocheted beret, dressed in jeans and an army jacket covered with protest slogan buttons, stood in the doorway holding a laundry basket. A small tan, mixed-breed dog, still a puppy, ran inside, danced around my feet, barked with much enthusiasm, then sat and looked up at me with adoration in its deep brown eyes. “Boo-Boo! Hush. What’s the matter with you, mutt? Have you gone loco? Chill, puppy.” I wasn’t in the mood to make nice. Two long strides brought me within a foot of the doorway in case I needed to make a quick exit. “Who the hell are you, and why are you waltzing into my apartment?” I demanded. A gasp, wider eyes, and then a beautiful smile flashed across her perfect peaches-and-cream complexion. “I am not waltzing. I am trudging. I save my waltzing for the dance floor, although I prefer the tango.” She squinted. “Oh sweet Mother Mary. I’m talking to an auditory hallucination. What the hell did my bartender put in the last margarita? Boo-Boo? Are you seeing this?…