Flash Fiction Friday! The Blow Up

Photo by nixxphotography

I was with Bob when he exploded.  He'd been going through a divorce and changing jobs.  When he told me he got evicted and needed to move to a cheaper apartment, I warned him:

“Take it easy, Bob.  You're doing too much at once.   Why don't you crash with me for a few months, until you get back on your feet, safely?”  I can be a pretty nice guy when I think about it.

My warning fell on deaf ears and really, what did I expect?  If Bob had been a listener, his wife wouldn't have left him and he wouldn't have been fired from his job.  Actually, Bob was kind of an ass. Still, that didn't mean I wanted bits of him all over me.

Bob is friend number three that has blown to bits.   I lost Trevor first.  Poor Trevor never stood a chance being a stutterer and having to give a speech at work.  Delane was a bomb tech, so when she exploded and the bomb didn't, we were shocked.

Bob and I were having breakfast when it happened.   He was on the phone with his new landlord.

“You can't raise the rent, we signed a lease... I know there's a clause but I'm a brand new tenant... I don't care how many other people would love that apartment, it's my apartment...”

I wonder if the landlord knew the stress levels Bob was carrying.  I'd like to think that if he did, he would have backed off.  Probably not.  Most likely, he hoped Bob would blow to bits so he could keep the pre-paid move-in fee and rerent the apartment on the quick.  Those jerks were doing that kind of thing all the time these days.  What was one more bloke blown to smithereens?  Some people think it gets rid of the genetic weak links, some people.

Bob hung up the phone.

“Buddy, you okay?” I asked, though of course I could tell the answer was no.

Bob's face had gone red, not that pink some people get from laughing too hard but a deep tomato red like happens when you hold your breath for way way way too long.  Sweat poured from his brow.

“Calm down, Bob, it's just an apartment.  There's plenty of apartments out there.”

His eyes bugged out of his head farther than any cartoon I'd ever seen before.  His face swelled, neck grew large like he swallowed a bag of oranges.  His pants split down the seams.   Just when I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head, his entire body exploded sending chunks of Bob all over the other diners.

“Really?” the teenage girl across from me said.   “Gross.”  I watched her pick Bob's ear out of her salad.  “Why don't they just, like, chill out or something?”

I have to admit, I was wondering the same thing.