The Name To Remember - Flash Fiction
- Greg Luti
- Apr 25
- 4 min read
I sat at a corner table of a wedding reception as a friend of a family member was telling me about an alien abduction he had. I tried my best to eat my chicken and drink my beer as he went on and on about the occasion. There is nothing quite like a family gathering with a person you barely know telling you about a time when the green men came to visit.
I just sat there and listened, offering comments that proved attentiveness but not engagement. The individual speaking was an older gentleman, someone my parents knew from a while back. Surely if one of them were around, they would be able to better identify this person. I can’t even tell you honestly who this guy was, but he needed an audience, and I was the one stuck listening.
The man finally got up to get some more food, and he ended his conversation. He didn’t really say bye to me, either, as much as he stopped talking and walked away.
I then headed for the trash can to throw out whatever was left on my plate, in my attempt not to have to sit down with that stranger again. I threw out my plate and put my beer on a counter by the window.
A man whom I also didn’t recognize was standing next to the counter and started chatting with me. I looked around the room for my family members, but they were all in line getting more food. I was stuck talking to another stranger I didn’t know.
