EPIPHANY SALE • by KJ Kabza

The sign taped to the edge of the table read, ‘Epiphany Sale: 50% Off!’

I looked up. Under the hot August sun, a freckled kid sat patiently at his card table (Epiphany stand?) at the edge of his lawn. In the side yard, someone, presumably his mother, was watering petunias. “What is this?” I asked. “Why aren’t you selling lemonade, like most kids?”

He smiled, revealing a gap in his front teeth, and wordlessly tapped a little finger atop the table, above the sign. In smaller print beneath, it read, ‘Only one dollar.’

“Oh, what the hell.” I fished out my wallet and gave him a buck. “Okay. What’s my epiphany?”

He folded his hands. “It’s coming.”

I shuffled my feet and looked up and down the sidewalk. Some lady walked her Labrador; a few older boys banged the decks of their skateboards against a curb as they tried to impress each other. I exhaled through my teeth and stuck my thumbs in my pockets.

“You’re not actually selling anything, are you?” I asked.

He grinned. “Would you like another?”


KJ Kabza, a former finalist of the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest (third quarter, 2007), has published science fiction, fantasy, horror, and literary works in a variety of smaller venues, both print and online. Most recently, his work has appeared online in Every Day Fiction, KidVisions, The Ranfurly Review, and Quantum Kiss, and in print in the anthology Fried! Fast Food, Slow Deaths from Graveside Tales.

Rate this story:
 average 5 stars • 1 reader(s) rated this
Uncategorized

Every Day Fiction