DAY NINE of FLASH AUGUST FICTION. I keep thinking about the FFF episode I did called The Resident. That one was weird. It had a surprising ending that also made sense. The word that stays prominent in my mind is furniture. So, that's the thing. Let's see what happens with furniture. Also, I want to refer a very good writer, just as I did yesterday. I think you should check out . I like all of her writing, and this one is especially good. OK, so let's see what this thing about furniture is all about. It seems like this time around there are a lot of single word prompts.
Horace's Desk Chair
Very Good Help is Hard to Find
1038 WORDS WRITTEN IS ABOUT AN HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES
Harrison hates being called Harry. He likes his name, Harrison. He is a big guy, he has natural muscles, he was an athlete, and all of that. He hates being pigeonholed as a big, physical guy who is not very intelligent and only does physical things for a living. Even with that being the case, one of his incomes is from being a furniture delivery guy. It pays OK; it's close to the house, it's in the neighborhood he grew up in and he's proud of being a working man.
His other job is as a consultant for interior designers, and his hobbies are a lot more intellectual. He writes, he plays music, and he is a night school architecture student. He'd like to be an architect, or at least an assistant. He has a love for both new building technology and historic buildings.
He has several small deliveries today. There was a mix-up, and some incorrect deliveries were made; he has to correct those, and then he has one near the end of the day that is a special case. It's an antique. It is a small desk with a chair attached, from the 1950's, when those types of desks were the norm in American schools. A student chair desk with a flip top for storage inside the desk.
When he loads the truck, he first loads things that will be delivered last, of course. So, the chair desk would be loaded first, but since he is fixing botched deliveries that have already been made, he only needs to store the chair desk and secure it well in the Truck so it doesn't slide around.
With each stop, he has to explain to the clients what happened. The spreadsheet was adjusted, but an entry was removed improperly, and it caused all the addresses to be off-kilter with the corresponding piece. Luckily, none of these items are very large; they are the smaller items. The larger items are all two-man jobs, and those are being handled by the guys who made the mistake in the first place. So, Harrison feels good about that.
He has notes on each delivery. Things he has to remember: the names of the clients; whether there is a freight elevator; if the building has a contact he needs to clear for entry; and any special notes regarding the items, such as assembly, whether he is doing the assembly, whether the client has anyone to place the item for them, or whether Harrison is doing that. He notices that his final delivery has a very odd and important note.
"Please use special caution with my brother's chair desk. This was his chair desk from elementary school. Please come up to the apartment and meet me before bringing it to the elevator. Thank you, Mrs. Theresa Stanley."
Harrison is finished with all of his other deliveries. It's time for him to go to the affluent part of town to deliver this antique desk. He parks the truck across from the building and checks in with the front desk man. A confirmation of his arrival is made, and he goes up the front elevator to meet the client.
Mrs. Stanley is waiting for him at her door, and she invites him in. Harrison introduces himself. "Hello ma'am, my name is Harrison, I have your desk in the truck across the street."
"Thanks, Harrison. I wanted you to come up first, because I want to be sure you're capable and that you'll use a lot of caution bringing my brother's desk up the stairs." You seem very strong, and I know you will be sure not to damage the desk, and make sure it gets up here in good condition and in one piece." You can take it up the back freight elevator. "It's a sizeable elevator, and there should be no issue maneuvering inside there."
"Mrs. Stanley, I hope you don't mind my asking, but that item has been in our shop for years. I've moved it several times and dusted it many times while cleaning around the store." How can you be sure that this desk is your brother's?"
"Well. You see Harrison; as you probably know, there is a carving on the upper corner of the desk."
"You mean the little half-moon with the three stars?"
"Yes, exactly. My brother would get in so much trouble carving that design into everything he saw, and I remember it like yesterday, seeing him in the classroom at that desk." When I was at your store just yesterday, I couldn't believe my eyes." I bought the desk right away. "Thank you so much for bringing it here."
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"I'll bet your brother will be surprised, have you told him?"
"Well, no, but maybe he knows." You see, my family has a trait where some of us are born with a heart condition, he and my other sibling passed away from it before they were adults. "I hesitate to tell you that Horace actually passed away right in that chair. “My mother who also had the condition, died giving birth to him. "I don't have the condition myself."
"Mrs. Stanley, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't upset you."
"Not at all, Harrison. I understand. How could you know?"
"I'll go get your brother's desk chair right away, and you can be sure I'll take extra care."
Harrison takes the truck around to the back of the building and uses the freight elevator. He carefully and lovingly carries the chair past Mrs. Stanley into the apartment, and she instructs him as to the placement of the desk chair. He sets it down gingerly, and he gently pats the little desk chair on the desktop. "There you go, Mrs. Stanley."
The two of them chat for a moment, and Harrison tells her about his goal of becoming an architect. She explains that her brother-in-law from right here in town is an architect, and she pledges to introduce him. She hands him $200 as a tip for his kind help. "Mrs. Stanley, this is very generous. Thank you so much.”
"I'm so glad Horace got such good help today. Thank you so much, Harrison."
The End.
That was more than I expected. I wrote it and it made me a little emotional. I like Flash Fiction and I hope you do as well. I’m a broke writer, I’m also a truth teller in these challenging times. I have always been a truth teller, and the theys really don’t like that. They don’t really let us succeed if they can help it. I hope you might get a paid subscription, or buy me a coffee, or donate some bitcoin. I wish you the best. I’m Commercial Herschel, and I’m here to help.
Horace's Desk Chair