The White Lighter

“You know those are bad luck right?”

            Lucas threw the lighter in the air and caught it, continuing the activity in what seemed to be total disregard of the question. A minute passed before he spoke. “So they say.” He continued his game.

            “Why did you buy it then?”

            “Maybe I like to live life on the edge.”

            “Don’t joke about this man, its serious.”

            A laugh tore its way out of Lucas’ dry throat. “Oh is it?” Eric didn’t reply. “You know they’re ALL white underneath their shell anyways.”

            “Let me drop some names for you.” Eric counted off his fingers. “Kurt Cobain. Janis Joplin. Jim Morrison. Jimi Hendrix. Know what they all had in common?”

            “Insane amounts of musical talent?”

            “Well, I mean, yeah, but besides that.”

            “They were all left-handed?”

            “Okay, fine, but you know that isn’t what I meant.”

            Lucas sighed. “A white lighter was found in each of their pockets after they died. Real spooky s**t.”

            “Don’t forget that they were all 27 when they died too.”

            “And? Am I supposed to be impressed? That’s called a coincidence, and we happen to be surrounded by them at all times.” He lit another joint before continuing on. “Don’t all soldiers die with dog tags on?” No answer. “Well?”

            “Yes, but…”

            “So then it must be the dog tags that kill them right? Since they’re all wearing them and it couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.”

            Eric scoffed. “That isn’t the same at all. You took the conversation from freaky circumstances to standard issue equipment, of course my argument is going to look stupid. White lighters are bad luck. Simple as that.” He concluded as he picked the joint away from his friend’s fingers.

            “Luck.” The word felt ridiculous to even say, let alone cede to. “Why would I adhere to a set of rules that our species long ago deemed irrelevant? Luck is nothing more than a tool of nature. Isn’t she the one who made us without wings so we couldn’t fly? Now we have planes. She crafted the sound barrier and we shattered it into a million pieces. Before too long we won’t even have to stay on her planet, let alone listen to what she says.

            The only rules we follow nowadays are man-made. Red means stop, workday ends at 5, things like that. Superstitions based on questionable evidence and gut feelings don’t quite make the cut.” Once again the lighter soared into the air.

            Eric jumped from his seat and snagged it before Lucas ever had a chance. He ran to the window, flung the portal open, then threw the lighter out.

            Lucas went to his side and looked out. “Now why would you go and do something like…” The sight of his mother rubbing her head in confusion made him forget what he was going to say. “I had an alarm set, I always do, why didn't it warn me?!”

            A quick glance at his phone told him it was a quarter to five, 15 minutes before the reminder named ‘Operation: Clean Smell’ went off every day.

            She turned her head toward the house. “Lucas is that you? Why is all of that smoke coming out of your room?! OH MY GOD IS THE HOUSE ON FIRE GET OUT RIGHT-“ She stopped to sniff. Now another. Her legs started pounding up the driveway.

            “Told you it was bad luck.” Was all Eric said before he ran down the stairs and out of the back door.

********

            They met at their usual spot the next day after school. Eric was waiting with an apologetic smile on his face. “Good to see you can still walk.”

            “No contact. I grew out of corporal punishment a long time ago. There was just a lot of yelling, a lot of tears, and a not so subtle hint that she’ll be coming home from work early a lot more often.”

            Eric laughed. “Lucky. If my parents found out that I smoked I don’t even think I’d live long enough to tell you about it.”

            “It was weird, cause the way she flew up the driveway made me think I was in real trouble for a second. Maybe the lighter jarred something loose in her head. Nice throw by the way.”

            By now they were walking. Eric sighed and stuck his hands behind his head. “I guess. If it was anything it was at least a fitting end for that damn lighter. Good riddance I say.”

            “Maybe instead of that you should say hi again.” Lucas said as he searched his pockets for a second before producing that same white lighter.

            Eric yelled and smacked his friend’s hand. The lighter hit the ground hard and exploded with a pop. Without wasting any time he kicked the plastic carcass into the closest sewer drain. “That takes care of that.”

            “The only thing that takes care of is the last two dollars in my wallet. I’ll be right back.” He went into the nearest convenience store and came out with a bright red Bic between his fingers. “Better?”

            “So much.”

            Lucas started to pick at the lighter. “Now, as I was saying before, every- Aw d****t.” His attempts to dig under the wrapping had caused the lighter to drop from his hands and bounce into the street. He went to go pick it up. “Okay so-“ Was all that came out of his mouth before an eighteen wheeler going well above the speed limit took him from both that space and the world.

            Eric stared at the spot in horror, because where his friend had been there was now only a red lighter, halfway peeled to reveal snow white plastic underneath.

Reviews

[RoseHedges]

I really liked this short story. Well done. I think you could have extended it and fleshed out the characters more. Why should I care about them? Why are they buddies? How old are they? Are they musical? etc.

A couple of grammatical tweaks:
consider how you set out this line: “Now, as I was saying before, every- Aw d****t.” as it took a bit of time to figure - maybe a bigger space in it?
and maybe hyphenate the words eighteen-wheeler to clarify.

But overall, very good and succinct, with a nice clean structure and twist.

[Sonny Smarra]

Thanks for the read! I had to keep it short because I planned to submit it to a magazine for publication and the limit is five pages, but its great to see you wanted more. Again, thanks for your input and sorry I took so long to reply

[Oberon Duke]

Oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. This is amazing. This is really, really good. This packs a punch. Only error I noticed was

OH MY GOD IS TH(e) HOUSE ON FIRE - missing that e. Other than that, this is flawless in both premise and execution. Well done!

[Sonny Smarra]

Thanks for noticing the typo it slipped right by me. Appreciate you taking your time to read it