Flash Fiction: Theme

I enter the supervillain’s kitchen. Stood nose to the ground is a 1950 A-bomb.

Oppenheimer raises a fist. “Nuke, I am your father!”

It beeps the Imperial March. “Do do do do-de do, do-de do!”

It pours coffee.

“If you have a theme,” he says, “you must own it.”



Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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