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Writer's pictureStephanie Daich

THE DOOM OF THE INVISIBLE CLOAK -Flash Fiction





“What’s the point of turning invisible if you smell like a rotten goat’s carcass while wearing it? And only for 29 seconds? Who designed the cloak, a demented troll?”

“One. Trolls don’t exist. Two. Stop complaining. I’ll take your cloak if you don’t want it. You can freaking turn invisible!” My best friend Sam said.

“Yeah, but as soon as I walk into a room, people know I’m there. They start looking around for the cause of the stench. And besides, 29 seconds, that gives me squat on time.”

“That is why I’ll help you. I’ll be your distraction. I’ll make a huge scene; you will put the cloak on and quickly make your heist.”

“Who says I want to be a criminal?”

“Bruh, what’s the point of having an invisible cloak if you don’t use it to your advantage?”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it.” I brush the hair out of my eyes. “I just think I might feel guilty.”

“You gotta push that aside. Where do you think the cloak came from anyway?”

“I told you, I found it in my dryer at the laundry mat. I was so mad when I pulled it out. It had made all my clothes smell like a pig farm. But then when I was—"

“No idiot! I mean, did it used to belong to a wizard? Like seriously, these things don’t exist.”

My bedroom door opened, and my roommate came in. “Yo, Braxton, you still going to give me that ride? I’m late for work.”

“I am coming along,” Sam said after Braxton left. “We are going to put that cloak to use.”

“I don’t know.”

As we pulled up to the police station, my roommate coughed. “Listen, I don’t want to be ungrateful for this ride, but your car smells like the sewer.”

I yanked on my shirt’s collar, then shrugged. I had the cloak stuffed in a bag in the trunk, but its smell still escaped.

Sam watched my roommate walk into the police station. “Let’s rob a bank.”

“There is no way that it will work. I only stay invisible for 29 seconds.”

“Bruh, I think a wizard with a demented sense of humor designed that cloak.”

“No doubt.”

Sam looked around. “How about Doug’s Deli across the street? I’ll order a sandwich. You’ll stand a couple of people behind me. When they open the till for the customer directly in front of you, I will create a scene. You throw on the cloak. Botta-Bing-Botta-Boo. Grab the money, and we scram.”

I pulled at my collar again. “I don’t know if I can steal.”

“Fine, you make the scene, and I steal the money.”

I imagined myself screaming and throwing a fit. There was no way I could do that. “Fine, I’ll grab the money.”

I walked into the deli a few minutes after Sam. The smell of warm bread greeted me, only to have me taint the air.

“Oh my gosh, what is that smell?”

Cough. Cough. Cough.

All eyes were on me. So much for conspicuous.

I pulled on my collar as the man in front of me ordered. Can I go through with this?

Ding. The till opened.

“I found the source of the smell,” Sam yelled. Everyone turned and looked at him. “There is a rotten rat in my sandwich.”

Everyone murmured, and a few gathered around Sam. “I am calling my lawyer. I am calling the police. How could you serve rotten rat!”

I became lost in his theatrics when I noticed his glare at me. Oh, yeah, that is my cue.

The man in front of me had his hand outstretched, still holding a twenty-dollar bill. The employee didn’t even notice it, as his eyes were fixed on Sam. I pulled the cloak out of my bag and slipped it on. The smell intensified.

One, two, three, four. I put my hand in the till and grabbed all the bills. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. I did it! I had gotten the money unnoticed.

I ran toward the exit. Just as I reached the door, Sam turned into me, not knowing I was there. I tripped and sprawled across the checkered linoleum. My wad of money flew everywhere, and my twenty-nine seconds ended. Suddenly, to the eyes of everyone, I appeared with a grungy cloak halfway draped over me, covered in money.

“I’ve been robbed.” The employee yelled.

“You can keep your rat sandwich,” Sam said as he tossed the sandwich across the deli and ducked out the door.

The customers surrounded me. Some collected the money for the employee, and others performed a citizen’s arrest on me. It didn’t take but seconds for the police to arrive since their station was across the road. We hadn’t planned the heist well at all.

“What’s going on?” My roommate said, decked in his police uniform.

“This man robbed us.”

“Braxton?”

My roommate shook his head. “If you were low on rent, all you had to do is tell me.” He shook his head. “Sorry to do this,” he said, turning me around and cuffing me.

As I was escorted out of the Deli, I saw a teen girl pick up the cloak. Why would she touch something so stinky? I watched her carry it to the garbage when the cloak and her hands disappeared. She moved the cloak around her body, and a huge smile filled her face when she realized what she had.

My roommate took me across the street and booked me into jail. I contemplated Sam’s betrayal and the humility of having my roommate arrest me. And I thought about the girl with her newly found treasure.

Perhaps she will be wiser with how she uses the invisible cloak.


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The Doom of the Invisible Cloak

by Stephanie Daich





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