Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: On the Dotted Line

“Sign here, please.”

I watched the couple give each other a bright smile before they each took a turn to sign their name on the dotted line. They sat on the edge of their seats, their excitement nearly palpable. Their baby, who couldn’t have been more than a month old, twitched slightly by their side.

“Okay,” I said and forced a smile. “That’ll do it. Your first payment will be due the 15th of next month and …” I opened my desk drawer and pulled out a keychain with two keys attached, “here are the keys to your new home.”

The woman squealed and the man chuckled as they both stood and prepared to leave. I watched them behind a veil of sadness. I had been in the real estate business long enough to know trouble when I saw it.

“Thanks,” the man said and held out his hand. I shook it firmly and appeared friendly on the outside, inside, I was seething and fought the urge to jerk him toward me and hiss a warning in his overly large ears.

The couple scooped up the baby carrier and without a backward glance, they exited the real estate area.

“Are they gone?” my boss materialized right outside his office.

“Yes.” I continued to stare after the couple as they crossed the foyer. “They can’t afford that house, Mike. We shouldn’t have approved their loan. I predict a foreclosure in about fourteen months.”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

I winced.


Fiction under 250 words.

I recorded this story through AudioBoo. You can find the recording here.