Flash Fiction: Greetings (186 words)

“Mornin’.” The man nodded to Lizza as she passed him in the hall on the way to the docks.

“Morning,” she returned.

And they both continued in their opposite directions, as if they’d actually passed polite greetings.

Sleep starved as Lizza was, her mind caught on the echo, and how ridiculous it was. The single word was not a greeting, or a good wish. It was simply an exchange of information that they both already had. It’s morning, he had told her, and she had graciously confirmed, yes, it is morning. Ridiculous. The sun was up. Of course it was morning.

It would be better, she decided, to at least give some information that the other person might not have.

“Morning,” a woman told her as they crossed the same corner.

“Rain later,” Lizza told her.

The woman faltered on the next step and looked at her.

“My Da’s knee was stiff when he got up,” Lizza said. “It always acts up right before a big thunderhead rolls in.”

The woman blinked and they continued on their way.

“Mornin’,” another man said.

“Rain later,” Lizza told him.

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