Flash Fiction: It Wasn’t About the Toilet

An assortment of open books laid out in a geometric pattern
Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash

Andrew eyed the soccer goal his father had built for him near the fence. Twelve yards away. Penalty kick distance. He readied himself to take the shot. Imagined a keeper jumping up and down on the goal line and waving his arms. He drew his leg back.

“Hey, Andrew!” his father yelled.

The ball soared over the goal. It splashed down in the neighbor’s pool.