Lonnie lived his life believing he was utterly forgettable, a dullard with average grades, ordinary jobs, invisible in every crowd.
When he retired at sixty-five, he quickly got bored and volunteered at the city police station, cataloging old records.
One day, he found a crumbling ledger that contained dozens of signed confessions from local criminals. Each ended the same way: Lonnie made me do it.
What the devil…
Tucked behind the last page was a faded photograph of himself, smiling next to strangers he didn’t know. On the back was a handwritten note:
“You only forget the life you’ve lived.”
*****
100-word microfiction, a drabble
