The Book Club – Microfiction Short Story

The Book Club 

The book slams shut.

For several long minutes the room sits in silence, all wide terrified eyes lay transfixed upon Cheryl. She drawers the ticking minutes in her stride, as she menacingly looks around the room, locking eye contact with each one of them. She then let’s out a carefree laugh, causing some of them to jump in their seats with fright, which in turn causes her laughter to shift in octave. With a devilish look painted across her face she closes the book that sits open on her lap and tosses it to the ground with dramatic flair. The slap of the book’s canvas on the tiled floor echoes through the makeshift classroom that crashes over them like a wave, sending them into a further panic.

“ENOUGH!” she screams as she thrusts herself to her feet and brings the room to a silent standstill once more. Staring towards them as a matador would their bull, smug and full of bravado. It’s then that a gentle sobbing breaks the silence, causing her face to twist violently as she casts an unrestrained look of aggression across the room. When she eventually spies the owner of the cries she moves like a ridiculously animated cartoon character, stopping before the weeping child.

“SILENCE!” she bellows, her flame laced words burn the child like a toaster would bread.

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