"...and don't reach for..." CRAP, too late.
As he reached for the pistol she reacted. She struck with her right foot. He gasped for air that would now never come again through his crushed windpipe.
"You wanted it to end this way, father," she said to him softly, tenderly.
She cried softly as he died.
Friday, March 28, 2008
55FFF - Chapter XXI
at 2:16 PM
Labels: Flash Fiction
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3 Comments:
"Crush Crush Crush!
Dude, you're windpipe's crushed!"
Yea, sing it to the tune of "three little kittens" Trust me, it works. ;)
Alright, I'll keep checking back in case there's more to this story. :) (read THAT in your best announcer guy voice!)
Have a great weekend Jim! :)
Mine's up too!!
--snow
"Three little kittens..." Hm, not familiar with that song. But if it works for you, then...uh, good!
Loved your FFF, too...great job! I think I try to pack too much stuff into too few words. Your story is very minimalist, very clean--you pick just the right words. Love it, girl! (C;
p.s.--hope YOU have a great weekend, too!!!
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