Good Boy: Flash Fiction

I am at a stage in my life where the internet is my only source of life advice. After the divorce, then the breakdown, I have very few friends left. No one in fact. My therapist was no use to me, a newly trained child with no time to do anything but read from a textbook. I feel like an alien, able to observe humans at a distance but never able to connect with them. So IĀ find myself endlessly typing questions into Google. How do I improve my life? How do I make friends? How do I stop crying at random times?

One of the articles is simple. It says THE ONE TRICK TO IMPROVE YOUR LIFE is to do a good deed for another person, every day. With nothing left to lose, I think, why not? So I leave my house for the first time in months. The light is blinding, but I steady my feet and walk to the town. I’m looking for a good deed to do. I want to do someone a favour. Everyone looks so content and perfectly happy. I don’t want to ask anyone, that would be weird. So I walk around, hoping.

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