Please Clap

A flash fiction fable about engagement bait

Photo by Jason Dent on Unsplash

I had it all.

I was living the dream.

At just thirty-six years old I achieved the low octane, high stress job I’d been relentlessly chasing after.

I had the middling paycheck. I had the mind-numbing daily tasks. I had the long hours spent away from my wife and kids.

Life had given me everything I ever wanted.

Or so I thought.

I woke up one morning, and I couldn’t breathe. I was being suffocated by the demands of my job.

Of society.

Of my family.

I knew what I had to do. And I knew I was brave enough to do it.

So I decided to quit my job. I decided to quit society.

And, most importantly of all, I decided to quit my family.

I bought the one-way ticket to Alaska. I bought the beat-up sled, and the mangy dogs.

Now, instead of competing to survive in the corporate rat race, I’m competing to survive in sled dog races.

I glance over at a fellow musher. I can tell by his terrified expression we both understand I’m not speaking metaphorically about survival.

I offer him an encouraging smile.

“I believe in you, my brother. If I can escape the daily grind of my hometown, you can escape the Kodiak bear that’s right behind you.”

---

Author’s Note: This absurd (possibly deranged?) flash fiction tale is inspired by the unfortunate escalation all across Notes of banal, feelgood anecdotes that are obviously fake (and probably AI generated), which one

Paul Staples

has lately done yeoman’s work in both criticizing and lampooning.

---

If you enjoyed reading my Thoughts™, consider showing your appreciation by helping to make my dream of quitting my day job a reality.

---