The memory of his 30th birthday was still fresh in his mind. The optimism and sheer excitement that the next decade held. The timing was perfect. Business was great and the market was booming. How could anything go wrong? He remembered thinking that he might even retire at the age of 45. Surely he would have made enough money by then to live the rest of his life in comfort.
“Lights out!”
A sudden crash back to reality. Another day in hell over and now he had to look forward to another night of regret. If he had just called a cab that night instead of getting behind the wheel, maybe he might have lived that life he envisioned in 1995. Instead, not only does he get to spend his nights in a small room with a guy they call G-Dog, but someone’s wife and daughter doesn’t get to have any more days and nights. A regret he will always have, in or out of prison.
Above is my entry for this week's Flash Fiction Challenge: diminishedfifth.
The rules were as follows:
- Maximum length: 250 words.
- The theme is: memory.
- The year is: 1995.
- Within the story, you must use this text: ease the pain.
3 comments:
Well done.
And welcome to Flash Fiction.
Here's my story (I like this Friday Flash Fiction stuff:):
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
If my memory serves me, that’s the last thing I heard.
I don’t remember exactly how many times I was shot. Five, six…??? All I can remember is that feeling. That hot, piercing sensation in the small of my back. Then nothing.
I guess in a way I should be thankful. That was the only thing that ever managed to ease the pain. Because of him I was no longer bound to him. He actually freed what he vowed he would never let go.
It all started in 1995. I was fresh out of high school and completely naïve to the world around me. I had never ventured out of my hometown, but now I was going away to college. A whole new adventure in a whole new city. Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out to be the beginning for me, it was the end.
I met Erik during the second week of classes. The “bad” boy of course. What started out as exciting, turned into scary, and then evolved into full-blown dangerous. I was always one of those “I’d never let that happen to me” girls. Oh how different it is when you’re in the middle of it. It never ends. Or in my case, it ends with five shots to the back. Or was it six?
I enjoyed your story - nice twist at the end.
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