Two Flash Fiction Pieces From Jelena Vencl Ohlrogge
Jeff was looking at a tiny cockroach in his living room. The cockroach was looking back at Jeff with its Parisian blue eyes.
Jeff thought he was dreaming, because roaches do not have blue eyes. Or, do they? Jeff was trying to fill his blank thoughts with something. Anything. He was holding his breath, frozen in time, hesitating to stomp on the roach.