Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 82: The Hit

This is the 82nd in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Hit, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 21st February 2013

Word count: 587

The story:

“Your choices are simple,” he announced the voice on the other end of the call, “Pull the trigger, or hang up and walk away. There are severe consequences either way. What’s it going to be Frank?”

Frank wanted to say ‘Fuck you’, but that was easier thought than said, the voice at the end of the call had explosives, Frank dare not piss him off, yet how could he shoot someone? Worst still, if he did what was to stop the voice detonating the bombs to hide the evidence.

“I’m waiting Frank,” the voice said.

Frank still had nothing to say, he was pondering whether he could run faster than the bombs, might be he could get away from the ones in the impromptu sniper nest, but that didn’t help the people in the train station. The voice’s target was going to be eliminated either way, but the explosives would kill and hurt many others.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 81: The Fairy Godmother

his is the 81st in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Fairy Godmother, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 20th February 2013

Word count: 669

The story:

“You can’t do this,” Lucy complained.

“I can and have, now get your things and go,” her manager Craig Roberts said indignantly, looking at her as if she were nothing more than a strain.

Lucy was determined not to cry, though it hurt. After eight months working here at Tyre Corp, to be fired so unjustly was almost soul destroying. She didn’t bother asking, begging or pleading, it wouldn’t help.

In a numb daze she gathered her things with all eyes on her she did the walk of shame when security approached. She sat numb on the bus ride into town, but even aware when someone took a seat beside her.

“Penny for your thoughts,” a smallish but deep voice said, breaking her depressing reverie.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“You seemed so troubled and far away,” the old woman that had lowered herself into the seat beside her said.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 80: The Last Living Saint

This is the 80th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Last Living Saint, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 19th February 2013

Word count: 997

The story:

“Anything I do for you would cost me my soul, contact or no contract, ” Danny said.

“There’s no need to be melodramatic,” the gentleman said, “I have billions of souls, I haven’t come here for a single paltry. No, I just need you to carry a message for me.”

“I’m not really in a fit state to be messenger, if I was so much inclined,” Danny said.

“Your current state is what brings me here, you’ll be dead soon, so just pass a message on,” the dark figure said pressing his palm against the prostate form of Danny who was trapped beneath the wreckage of a car. “This means war,” the he whispered.

Suddenly Danny awoke in a cold metal box, draped in a sheet. He pulled the sheet from his head and tried to get his bearings. The box was small, he couldn’t sit up. After several experiments he found some kind of switch and a door beyond his feet popped open, he crawled out naked and cold. He wandered around and eventually found a changing room with ill fitting clothes in it, so he got dressed. It was quiet, he guessed through the fog that haunted his mind that it was night.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 79: Spencer Saviour of the World

This is the 79th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Spencer Saviour of the World, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 18th February 2013 (finally I’ve caught up, been one day behind every day last week).

Word count: 900

The story:

The odd thing about Spencer Redhill was that he had an aptitude for virtually nothing… Except for one solitary thing. He was a skilled hunter, not of games but of patterns. The guy was a genius with patterns, but he lacked qualifications, interpersonal skills, and ambition to put these skills to use commercially.

Nor was he like Sherlock who could pull patterns together from non-congruous data, it was a peculiarly singular and focused a special skill. If you were struggling on a word search, Spencer was your man.

So it was quite a shock to everyone when he became famous for saving the country from bankruptcy. It was all so shocking that this unassuming man would get tied up, be in a car chase, and a shoot out. It was a spy novel breaking out in real time, with the least likeliest protagonist.

I suppose I should start at the beginning for those in a coma or not yet born on the 5th October 2015.

Britain had just had an election, and a new government was in place. Almost immediately the national financial crisis hit home as the government was forced to default on payments. On the 5th October it was the third announcement in a row of defaulting on payments. It was a huge crisis, the credit rating had tanked, services were being cut to the wick, to no avail.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 78: Vixen

This is the 78th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Vixen, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 17th February 2013

Word count: 702

The story:

“Well that was a blast of fresh air. The girl I was just with liked it really freaky. I’ve been with plenty of women that thought that liked it freaky, but compared with tonight’s girl, there as vanilla as the yoghurt.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love vanilla, but cherry and spices made a real difference,” Craig the young man in the tight fitting expensively tailored beige suit said to his friends.

Each and everyone of his friends felt the instinctive desire to call bullshit. It was true that he seemed to have uncanny success with women, but blatantly he was prone to exaggeration.

“Okay,” Michael in the white open collared shirt said finally, “How did you meet this freaky girl?”

“Well I was in Bradford,” he started.

“Shit, you went out on the pull in Bradford. Do you not watch the news?” Tony in the blue rugby top asked.

“No why?” Craig asked bemused.

“There’s a serial killer targeting young men in night clubs. She’s been dubbed the Stairway to Heaven killer,” Tony informed his young boastful friend with relish.

“Yeah I was reading about that in the Metro,” Michael said.

“Oh if it’s in the Metro it must be true,” Craig observed drily. “Anyway, I can gaurentee, one night with me and she wouldn’t want to stab anyone anymore.”

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 77: Clean Up

This is the 77th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Clean up, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 16th February 2013

Word count: 590

The story:

“Your name is Constance Sorrows,” the police officer asked.

“For the second time, yes,” the young woman said.

“So what were you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the area… Looking for a cash machine,” she said cocking her head to one side and treating the police officer to a warm smile.

“Okay,” the officer said taking note, “Bit of a dangerous place to be looking. There’s one out on the main road, about for streets that way.”

“Thank you,” she said then hurried off leaving the scene of the crime.

Constance didn’t go to the cash machine, instead she found her car that had been parked a few streets away.

As she drove she looked back at the flashing lights of police and ambulances. Hopefully they’d never know who took out everyone at a drug deal.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 76: Space Swarm

This is the 76th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Space Swarm, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 15th February 2013

Word count: 1000

The story:

“The odds are stacked against us,” the soldier, Private First Class Eric Whitehead stated.

“Yep,” the mysterious civilian said. Eric had some suspicions.

“We’ve barely got any ammo,” Eric pointed out.

“That’s true,” the civilian acknowledged.

“And I don’t know you from Adam,” Eric pointed out flatly.

“Funny my name is Adam,” the civilian said.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“Fair enough, it doesn’t matter what my name is. I’m presuming you can put two and two together. I outrank you in this, so believe me when I tell you that if we don’t even try the Earth is doomed,” the civilian said. Eric was now sure he was Earth Defence Intelligence. “We’re in the ultimate behind enemy lines situation. This ship is on a direct course to Earth.”

“So the two of us are going to single handedly invade their cavernous engine room and destroy it?”

“I was hoping to be discrete about it, but that’s the general idea, yes.”

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 74: Master and Teacher

This is the 74th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Master and Teacher, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 13th February 2013

Word count: 514

The story:
“You must learn discretion,” the wizened old man told the impetuous youth. The old man was Enlee Erasdio the Fourth, grand master wizard of the Kingdom of Eglasia. The young man was his apprentice Badger, formerly a homeless orphan from the neighbouring village of the Grand Master’s Tower in the Eastern edge of Eglasia overlooking the sea.

“We have all the power though,” the apprentice said.

“Power yes, it’s true, and yes it’s important,” the Grand Master acknowledged, “But the wisdom to use that power, and more importantly when to use it, is what you need to learn. There are few others that have mastered fireballs over the centuries, as quick as you have… But a fireball won’t put food on the table. Understand?”

“I could shoot a rabbit with one,” the boy pointed out.

The Grand Master waved his hands, and a rabbit sprang forth, “Go on then.”

The youth thrust his hands out, and a swirling ball of flame impacted on the stone floor, the rabbit looked back.

“A coin brings food far more readily then a ball of flame. Plus you are strengthened by it, not weakened.”

“Why not conjure coins?” the apprentice asked.

“Coins are complicated, intricate pieces of magic all on their own. The belief people apply to them gives them protection. It is easier for a fraudster to make fake coins than a magician,” the old man said.
“What like this?” the boy waved his fingers and a gold coin appeared.

“That coin is an illusion, and that has draw backs. For instance, if the receiver of said coin didn’t check it, he would notice it missing later. You could spend as many of those as you liked, but you’d never be welcome in that town again. The same goes for most physical objects you might convert.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” the apprentice said, “So what do we do?”

“Well, that’s when we sell things that we can conjure and conjure well, or we can sell our services,” Enlee Erasdio answered. “When I was a young apprentice, not much older than you are now, I went out into the world’s adventuring.”

“Like Incingo De Janeiro?’ the apprentice asked.

“Very much so,” the wizard said. “He amassed a fortune, and a lot of exciting tales in his time. And it was on his long hard journeys that he founded not one but two schools of thought within magic.”

“Is that what I’m to do?” he asked.

“That’s up to you,” the Grand Master said, “There comes a time in every students education when they believe there is nothing more their teachers can teach them. They’re usually wrong, I know I was, but the experience we gain outside of this tower shows what we know and what we don’t in stark contrast.”

“I’m not ready yet,” the boy acknowledged.

“No, not yet, but I fear it won’t be too long. But for now, let’s try some spells that will help you when you are ready.”

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 75: The Interview

This is the 75th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Interview, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 14th February 2013

Word count: 845

The story:

Sometimes my imagination runs wild, and reality fails to live up to what I intended. It happened a lot, but the time I remember most was a few years ago, there I was minding my own business when a colleague comes over:

“You’ll do it, won’t you?”

“Do what?” asks I, not having the faintest clue what he’s on about.

“We’ve got some people coming in to do video interviews, just three or so questions, for a board meeting.”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s a great opportunity to get your face out there,” he says, showing his hand. It trumps mine, filled with reservations as it is.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

I get told the questions standard stuff, best and worst things about working for the company, what I’d like to improve, etc…

So fairly straightforward really. Yet my mind starts directing a very polished seeming professional pitch, the kind no one would forget.

Here’s how my fantasy went:

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 73: Mutual Defence

This is the 73rd in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Mutual Defence, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 12th February 2013

Word count: 935

The story:
“How does it feel to have cracked the case?”

“I’ve felt better,” Jack Maisey said, his hand pressed against the wound in his side.

“I’m sure you have kid, I’m sure you have,” the MP said crouching low, cleaning the knife wound with the contents of a first aid kit he’d brought down with him. “You’re going to need stitches.”

“Yep,” the young private detective said, “If I live long enough.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, of course your going to live, I’m not a cold blooded killer,” the MP pressed an absorbent pad into the wound.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll send you down?”

“No, I’m a trusting soul. especially  when people’s self interest is at stake. Remember, Mister Maisey, as you think you’ve got on me. It’s on both our interests to leave this place alive, and never mention a word of it again. Understand?” the MP said, pulling the detective to his feet.

“Yeah, I understand,” Jack said. “Okay if we go left at that corner we can make our way out.”

“The quickest way would be back that way,” the MP pointed with his free arm.

“And that’s where they’re waiting for us both, in force.”

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