It seemed like a good joke. Jack was already freaking out about turning a half-century. Had bought himself a toupee that looked like a ferret was taking a crap on his head. What kind of pals would we be if we didn’t rub it in? Fifty candles all jammed onto a nine-inch cake. And not just any candles. Those little bastards that you can’t blow out. I’d bring it to the bar after work. Nobody had counted on Jack starting to down Wild Turkey Rye at noon or what would happen when his breath met with all those tiny flames.



Jayne Martin is a Pushcart, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions nominee, and a recipient of Vestal Review’s VERA award. Her debut collection of microfiction, “Tender Cuts,” from Vine Leaves Press, is available now. www.jaynemartin-writer.com. Twitter: @Jayne_Martin