Brown Bag by David Henson
He could make it across but waits for the Walk signal. When it lights up, he counts his steps. On the two hundred and twentieth, the roar of the ocean drowns out the traffic. He smiles when he sees the bench with the best panorama and fewest splinters is open. And no skateboarders.
He rests the paper bag on his lap, pours coffee from the thermos, and, watching the steam, wonders where it goes. He takes a few sips then, silently warning the gulls, empties the sack—baloney sandwich, small bag of chips, fruit cup. No napkins or spoon. Rookie mistake.
Resting a chip on his tongue, he tells himself he should buy the family size and bring a few each day in a baggie.
After finishing the sandwich, he peels open the fruit cup, sips the juice, and fingers out the small bits of peaches, pears, and grapefruit. He hates grapefruit.
He leans back on the bench and studies the lighthouse. Wouldn't be a bad job, he thinks. Maybe see whales. He wonders if he were to fly just right of the tower would he arrive at Japan? China? He should’ve paid more attention in geography class. All his classes. Maybe he wouldn’t be spending his years changing oil and rotating tires. Sometimes he hears the torque wrench growl in his sleep. Maybe—his watch beeps. Funny how such a small sound can insist itself against the ocean.
He starts to toss the paper bag into the trash, but remembering he’s low on lunch sacks, he empties the contents into the bin and folds the bag into his pocket. He notices an empty cola can on the ground and recalls how, as a kid, he’d stomp them onto his shoe so they’d clang when he walked. He tosses the can into the bin.
He takes the brambled path down to the water’s edge. He closes his eyes and lets the sound of the surf wash over him. Japan or China? He decides it doesn’t matter.
David Henson and his wife reside in Illinois. His work has been selected for Wigleaf’s Top 50 Very Short Fictions 2026, nominated for Pushcart Prizes, Best Small Fictions, Best of the Net, and has appeared in various publications including Bottle Rocket, Best Microfictions 2025, Ghost Parachute, Moonpark Review, Maudlin House, and Gone Lawn. His website is http://writings217.wordpress.com His X handle is @annalou8.
