The Shootout

I had Mal McClusky cornered. But a bad guy is most dangerous when cornered.

I'd taken cover; checked my pistol, its handgrip wet as I gripped it.

"I'm taking you in, Mal," I called.

"Come get some detective," he replied.

McClusky had made an error. I now knew his location.

I inched around the corner.

“Come peacefully; it won’t be so rough on you,” I said.

Silence.

Too quiet.

Then I felt his pistol on my neck.

“You lose detective,” McClusky said and fired. The water pistol squirted water down my back.

“Best of three, son?”

“You’re on, dad,” he grinned.

The local legend
Snell did not think twice. It stood outside the shop unsecured. A quick glance and into the alley with the small sized rug. He did not see it coming as he limped off. No sirens or lights, just two bizzies hands on hips in front of a squad car, blocking escape. Shit, fuck, piss-flaps, bastard, cunt. Nothing could adequately express his crushing disappointment. Then came the glorious inspirational idea that secured his fame for generations to come. With one deft move he opened the rug out and knelt upon it. Crying out the immortal phase "Fly yer bastard, fly!"

Hemingway famously did it in less than 10
"For sale, babys shoes. Never worn"

Most publishers use 1000 words as the upper limit for flash, but I like the economy 100 words forces.

Love your story!

At a press conference, Nick Birdensum of SaniTroll announced the company's entry into the space race.

“Glasov Swill named Dr. Billy Bob Sakituya as mission director," Birdensum said. "We plan a colony on the sun. It isn't moving like Mars and Europe [sic] so it’s easier to hit, and it’s downhill. The climate’s warm, meaning less weight for heating. According to Dr. Sakituya, the sun's rapid rotation means the night side temperatures are warmer, too. The lack of craters proves it should be safer. We have no crew volunteers, but that’ll change when knowledge of the project becomes wide spread."

The meals I've held and hosted to so many family. The laughs at birthdays and the arguments at holidays. The new babies and Grandma and Grandpa always sitting side by side smiling quiet and trying to keep up with the busy talk of catching up; who's getting married. Or divorced. A niece came out gay last month. A cousin diagnosed with mental illness. Not sure what kind. Great granddaughter graduating in the Spring. She studied on my back, listening to pop music and chewing gum while she flipped the pages cramming for a quiz. So many years of life and sobbing and joyful screaming out lound and breakfasts and Sunday dinners. I'm old and stained. One of my legs is wobbly. I'm not as shiney and new as I used to be. I sit waiting in my dusty corner in this dusty thrift store waiting, with the others, for a new home, and new joy and noise and life.