My Teeth

A Story by Tory

A VERY short story using the colors black and white. Made for a contest.

My Teeth

I have two teeth in my mouth. One is white and one is black. They are the best teeth in the world. You may be wondering what’s wrong with the black tooth, but then I’d have to tell you you are looking at it the wrong way. My black tooth isn’t decayed. There isn’t anything on it. It’s just black. If anything, I like my black tooth better because it makes me famous. Plenty of people have white teeth, but who can say they have a pure black tooth? Let me tell you something I’ve never told anyone else before: it is my key to happiness! Whenever I smile at a lady, her face scrunches up in a weird sort of way and hesitates for a moment. That’s when I go up to her and make my move. I explain to her that there is nothing wrong with it, that it just grew in that way. Once we got past this conversation, I’d get to know the lady a little more. By the end of the week, I have a new girlfriend. Oh? You don’t believe me? That’s because it isn’t true. I actually have shiny white teeth, the cleanest in town (possibly even the world). When I walk down the street and flash a smile, people look down because they’re too bright. I guess you could say people got to know me rather quick by the flash of my smile. I’m a well-known guy because of my pearly whites. That’s why I wanted to throw in the story about a black tooth. It’s not that I’m less known, I just thought it’d be interesting to give a story about someone having a black tooth. Had you going, didn’t I? That’s okay. It happens to the best of us. Sometimes I don’t want the notoriety. I feel foolish sometimes because people know me, but I don’t know them. Once in a while, I’ll manage to get a date with some gorgeous woman, but as I get us some popcorn, people hold me up because they want to know why my teeth are so white. Fame isn’t as wonderful as it may seem. Take it from me. I’m writing this to you from a jail cell. I couldn’t take the notoriety. People would hold me up in the streets to ask me questions, even when I had to be somewhere soon. I couldn’t take it, so when a police officer came up to me and asked about my teeth, I punched him. I knew I would only get a little time, but my time in here has been bliss. No more special recognition. I’m as happy as can be. I only wonder what I’ll do when I get out of here. Maybe I’ll go to Alaska or someplace secluded. I need to get away from people. The walls are closing in.