Ed Drury returns to the winner’s circle as the readers’ choice in this week’s Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge.
The winning entry is rewarded with a special feature here today and a place in our collection of winners which will be published as an e-book at year end.
Without further ado, here’s the winning entry:
Photo by K.S. Brooks
No Stopping by Ed Drury
Mitch punched the gas and as he expected, the Christmas tree lights of Dunbar’s police cruiser appeared immediately in his rear view mirror. He slowed his vehicle, pulled over to the curb, and waited. Glancing over at Eileen, he saw that same icy stare of disapproval she always gave him – the same look that finally caused him to snap. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he just wanted to escape that judgmental scowl, that smug self-righteous opinionated smirk of superiority.
Dunbar tapped on the window and Mitch pushed the control that lowered it.
“Hi Mitch, you know you blew through a red light just now. Have you and Eileen been fighting again? You had anything to drink tonight, Mitch?”
Mitch hated people who asked rhetorical questions. Eileen was just like that. Asking questions she damned well knew the answer to and just waited for a denial so she could pounce.
“Where is Eileen, Mitch? Is she okay?”
Again, with the judgments and attitude? Mitch glanced over to the passenger seat – it was empty. He looked Dunbar in the eye and told the simple truth, “The answers to your questions in order are: yes we have, no I haven’t, she’s in the trunk, and no she’s not okay.”
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Ed Drury returns to the winner’s circle as the readers’ choice in this week’s Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge.
Mitch punched the gas and as he expected, the Christmas tree lights of Dunbar’s police cruiser appeared immediately in his rear view mirror. He slowed his vehicle, pulled over to the curb, and waited. Glancing over at Eileen, he saw that same icy stare of disapproval she always gave him – the same look that finally caused him to snap. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he just wanted to escape that judgmental scowl, that smug self-righteous opinionated smirk of superiority.
Dunbar tapped on the window and Mitch pushed the control that lowered it.
“Hi Mitch, you know you blew through a red light just now. Have you and Eileen been fighting again? You had anything to drink tonight, Mitch?”
Mitch hated people who asked rhetorical questions. Eileen was just like that. Asking questions she damned well knew the answer to and just waited for a denial so she could pounce.
“Where is Eileen, Mitch? Is she okay?”
Again, with the judgments and attitude? Mitch glanced over to the passenger seat – it was empty. He looked Dunbar in the eye and told the simple truth, “The answers to your questions in order are: yes we have, no I haven’t, she’s in the trunk, and no she’s not okay.”