Something shiny

A short story by Christopher Silva

Something Shiny


He picked it up, it glimmered oddly and he knew right away he’d found something cool. It was light, metallic and seemed to change colors continuously. The thing had an odd feel, like a dolphin’s skin, unexpected and very foreign.

A closer examination proved to be useless; his young imagination running wild, he thought this thing is definitely alien or maybe a part of a new spaceship from one of our government’s secret projects. Pocketing the object the teen moved quickly to catch his bus and get to his classes.

Coming home he tossed the backpack on the ground next to the door and moved up the stairs. The thing he’d found forgotten. He listened to some music, modern grunge, and started his home work for the next day.

*
Sharon was doing laundry again; it seemed to her that her life revolved around this task. While prepping the clothes for the machine she found something strange and wondrous in her son’s jeans. She held it for a moment, kind of weighing it, thinking it had a strange feel to it, nothing she could put her finger on, just different. She carefully put it in her pocket and made a mental note not to discuss this with her husband, he would never understand.

Later that night, when everyone was in bed asleep, Sharon quietly climbed out of bed and headed to her sewing room. This was her private domain, she pulled out the luminescent thing she'd found in her son's jeans. The object felt heavier than before. She felt warm all over as if it exuded a certain heat. The glow took her, and she shivered and smiled. She felt good; maybe better than she had in years. Sharon knew exactly what she was supposed to do; she got up and moved with a purpose.

Entering the kitchen she turned the knobs on the gas stove and quickly walked over to a drawer where she methodically pulled out some matches. Exiting the back door, Sharon gingerly grabbed the lighting fluid for the new barbecue she had purchased her husband for his birthday last summer, she felt so good, just like walking on air.

She opened the bottle, stuffing in a piece of oily rag her husband had left laying next to the BBQ. Sharon entered and closed the back door behind her and headed through the house to the front door. She opened the front door humming an old Frank Sinatra tune lighting the rag at the same time. The rag lit with a POOF and her hand was slightly burned, she didn’t even notice,and tossed the package towards the kitchen. Closing the door softly, she walked down the steps and moved to the side walk and sat down feeling truly satisfied.

*
Sgt. Benson arrived on the scene and was shocked, the house was burnt to the ground and the woman in custody was the mother; she also seemed to be the arson. Sgt. Benson thought to herself, she had seen a lot of things in her career, but this one takes the cake.

While putting the woman in the squad car Sgt. Benson saw something shiny fall out of the woman’s pocket. She bent down and picked it up and thought the thing had an odd feel to it. She made a mental note not to enter it into the log or the woman’s personals pouch later, the others would never understand.

Sgt. Benson left the precinct with a smile on her face, she felt good, better than she had in years. Humming an old Frank Sinatra tune, she knew exactly where she was going and what she had to do.


"Start spreadin' the news, da da tada da."