Posts
Here is my entry for the first campaigner challenge from Rach Writes,
we had to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words starting with "the door swung open"
and for a bit more of a challenge ending with "the door swung shut,"
plus being 200 words exactly:
Samuel McCord came to my rescue in this bit of flash fiction --
The door swung open.
It does that a lot at Meilori’s, my haunted jazz club. Usually Lucifer doesn’t walk in. Like now.
At least, he believed he was Lucifer. He called himself DayStar. Sadly, he had the sheer power and intellect to convince a lot of people he was who he said he was . I wasn’t one of them.
He was simply deluded. I smiled bitterly. There was a lot of that going around.
Dressed in an Armani suit, DayStar walked to my table and sat down.
The lights around my table went dark. All I could make out were his deep gray eyes.
"Hypocrite, I lie to others while you lie to yourself. What is the difference between you and me?"
I got my voice to work. "That question keeps me up nights."
"Excellent," laughed DayStar. “Have you ever thought how good it feels to kill people with that right hand of yours?”
“Each life is unique. Ending those lives should never feel good.”
“Really? It must feel good to God. He does it all the time.”
Laughing like the breaking of brittle bones, he got up and disappeared. I looked to the front.
The door swung shut.
we had to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words starting with "the door swung open"
and for a bit more of a challenge ending with "the door swung shut,"
plus being 200 words exactly:
Samuel McCord came to my rescue in this bit of flash fiction --
The door swung open.
It does that a lot at Meilori’s, my haunted jazz club. Usually Lucifer doesn’t walk in. Like now.
At least, he believed he was Lucifer. He called himself DayStar. Sadly, he had the sheer power and intellect to convince a lot of people he was who he said he was . I wasn’t one of them.
He was simply deluded. I smiled bitterly. There was a lot of that going around.
Dressed in an Armani suit, DayStar walked to my table and sat down.
The lights around my table went dark. All I could make out were his deep gray eyes.
"Hypocrite, I lie to others while you lie to yourself. What is the difference between you and me?"
I got my voice to work. "That question keeps me up nights."
"Excellent," laughed DayStar. “Have you ever thought how good it feels to kill people with that right hand of yours?”
“Each life is unique. Ending those lives should never feel good.”
“Really? It must feel good to God. He does it all the time.”
Laughing like the breaking of brittle bones, he got up and disappeared. I looked to the front.
The door swung shut.
***
