This week’s flash fiction challenge, as brought to you by Chuck Wendig’s blog terribleminds, is to write a short story (of no more than 1000 words), using one of a group of randomly generated sentences. I’ve altered the deal a bit, both because I’m short on time and because I want a different challenge: I’m going to try to use several of them to tell a story as quickly as possible. I’ve got three of them in here, and you can find the list on Chuck Wendig’s page. Enjoy!
The shooter says goodbye to his love. He closes his phone and feels at peace with what he is about to do. He lies on the ridge overlooking the road where it runs along the canyon’s edge, over the river, and he can see far down the highway. His target, a group of teenagers who do not understand what they took when they grabbed the old worn suitcase from the old worn man, has been confirmed en route past his position. The rest is up to him.
Rock music approaches at high velocity. The open convertible is filled with four raucous partiers, celebrating their new-found wealth. The suitcase rests in the center of the backseat. The shooter lines up his shot, waiting for his moment. When he fires, the driver’s head snaps back then forward again, bouncing off the headrest. The driver’s arms jerk. The wheel pulls right, and the car plows through the guardrails and out over the edge of the canyon, sailing through the emptiness. The car trails teenagers’ screams. The shooter watches in consternation, and he knows what must have gone wrong.
The shooter pulls out his phone again, this time calling a different number. He dials a number he knows by heart. When the other side picks up, he speaks calmly and swiftly. “The target is down, but there’s a problem. The river stole the gods. End transmission.”
Pingback: Flash Fiction: Blood in the Desert | Fistful of Wits