"Accented," a Flash Fiction Story

 Recently, I've been reading a couple books aloud that are set in England and the south.  I've had quite the time reading the books aloud and practicing my accents and that's what made me think of this. 

Enjoy! 

Accented

A woman comes into the shop, talking quickly with her husband, or whoever the man next to her is, in a flat and strange voice.  It interests me nonetheless because of how odd and foreign it sounds.  

“Good afternoon,” I call out as my mother taught me, she is only a room away now, still the moment she steps away is when new people step in.  

“Oh, yes, good.”  The woman says, noticing me for the first time, and her voice changes from what I’d heard a moment ago.  It rises to a higher pitch at the end, mimicking my voice but less rhythmically.  It gives me the impression that she’s mocking me, which infuriates me.  I watch as she walks around the small store, snatching moon pies, boiled peanuts, and a couple of RC colas. 

 I plan the way I will act when she comes to the register, I will pound my voice down until it is flat and boring like hers, no, no, I will sit up straight and speak loud and clear, flaunting the way my voice rises and falls musically.  

What I really want is for the tables to be turned, I shouldn’t feel like the odd one out here.  The more I think about it though and the more I wait, I realize I don't want to talk to her again.  Ohh, where is my mamma?! 

Thank you for reading!