Lookout

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Reg had said his business in 215 wouldn’t take long, but that was over twenty minutes ago.

“Just keep a lookout,” he had said, but now Lily was starting to get worried. What was keeping him, and who exactly was she on the lookout for?

Just as she was tossing this through her mind, the motel manager started to make her way towards the rooms. Lily instinctively reached over and sounded the horn and a moment later Reg came bounding down the steps carrying a carry-all that she hadn’t seen before.

“What’s that?” Lily asked.

“Just something, I left behind before,” he explained.

If that wasn’t a satisfactory answer, what might she expect his explanation for his newly bloodied knuckles to be?

She was really starting to question her taste in men.


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Advances

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Warren was quite proud of his exhibit on wind energy. His inclusion of working turbines was also helpful in his manoeuvring the display into position. His only regret was that he had paid so little attention during the lesson of wheels.

—————

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Tech


Stake outs weren’t like they were in Dan’s father’s day. Dad used to be gone for days at a time and return home smelling of sweat and stale coffee. No, Dan’s surveillance were quite different with state of the art optics, audible, and sensor arrays. To make it better still it was all done in the station, a mere ten minutes from home with decent coffee, and a unending supply of donuts.


Padre

https://fivedotoh.com/2022/06/06/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-172/

Simple Pleasures (or Paradise Lost)

The Guitar Player by José Ferraz de Almeida Júnior

It was the simple pleasures at the end of the day that made all the difference. A hearty meal of broth and bread, and a chance to relax and sing into to the early evening before retiring to face the next day. It had always been thus, until the terrible day when the men arrived and put up that infernal tower. Before long tranquillity was lost to the flickering blue light of plasma screens and handsets. Many believe Satan dwells in the bowels of the earth, but truth be told he is in the air. Lies and destruction are his delight, and TikTok and like are his joy.


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Prize Winner

Pixabay

Evie was called forward in the assembly and the principal announced that she was the winner of the essay contest. Many of her peers looked on jealously as she was handed the certificate and the £30 voucher.

“Evie,” Mrs. Baxter said. “Your essay was unique, and was a breath of fresh air for all of us judges. Many of your competitors seemed to follow the same line of argument, and there was a surprising similarity even in much of their wording. How did you manage to write something so original?”

“Well, I um, I made it a point to not use Wikipedia at all, and in fact, once I started following that rule, I decided to avoid using the internet at all.”

“But, how could you possibly have managed gathering all of that clever information without the web?” the principal asked in astonishment.

“Well, after school one day, I missed the bus. So I had to wait for my mum. She said to meet her by the side exit, so I went down a hall that doesn’t get used much and I found a really weird room that no one seemed to know about. It was all full of books and stuff, so I had a peek. Before I knew it my mum was ringing me, asking why I hadn’t come out yet. I told here I was reading an actual book. Soon the “Library” became my favourite place in the school, and no one ever bothered me there. I used the books to research my essay.”

“How novel,” Mrs. Baxter said. She then turned to the deputy head and whispered, “Did you know we still had a library?” Mr Turner just shrugged.


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Flash Mob

It wasn’t really so much a flash mob as it was a flash presence. It had sounded a great idea when the local orchestral society had discussed doing it.

“What about Bolero?” Heidi had suggested.

“Wonderful choice,” Peter replied and they were off. They spent the next three rehearsals going over and over the same piece.

Finally the appointed day arrived, and Heidi was off early to plot out her seat at the airport. Twenty minutes later Tom Weaver showed up as well and the pair waited for the rest of the orchestra to arrive. They waited. They waited some more.

Finally, they started to play the piece the best they could in the domestic departure lounge. The show must go on they reasoned, though they were quite annoyed at the others.

Meanwhile, a enthralled crowed enjoyed the “spontaneous” rendition of Bolero which was played by nearly an entire orchestra in international arrivals.


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Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #145

The Project

Natalya Vaitkevich @ Pexels.com

There was so much out there. How could she ever hope to capture it? This niggled at Angela for days, then she decided that the only way to do it was to start.

She set up her easel and placed a single twig before her and began to look long and hard at it. She looked beyond the leaves and bark into the soul of the thing. She then began to simply sketch what filled her mind’s eye. Eight hours later she pushed back and took in the fruit of her labour. “Leaf,” the true leaf had taken form on the paper. It seemed almost three dimensional.

So realistic was the rendering that she reached out to touch it. As she did it fell from the page and drifted to the floor.

Amazed, she blinked and picked it up. She could feel its texture and weight. It was indeed a leaf.

She immediately sat back before her easel and began to work.

Four days later her mother knocked her door.

“We were worried about you,” she said letting herself into the studio. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

The bleary-eyed Angela looked towards her mother and ans merely said, “Sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“Let’s see it then,” her mother said and leaned over to look at the blank paper. “Working?” she asked.

“Yes, my best stuff yet,” Angela said.

“Hmm,” her mum said unconvinced. “I’ll leave you to it, and eat something. You look awful.”

“Okay, Mum,” the artist replied.

With that her mother left not having noticed the pile of leaves and twigs around her daughter’s ankles.


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Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #141

All or Nothing

Gratisography @ Pexels.com

“It’s time to put your money where your mouth is,” Will said limbering up his wrist. For weeks he had heard people going on about the undefeated Tyler. Enough was enough, and now Will was coming out of self-imposed retirement. This road house was his and everybody should remember the fact!

As the two combatants took to the table money started to be slapped down all over the joint. This was going to be the decisive battle to settle the issue once and for all.

“Okay, Dad, I’m ready when you are,” Tyler said looking his father straight in the eye.

Will knew the day would come someday, but he thought it would have been longer than nineteen years.

After a long struggle the older man felt his knuckles hit the table.

Tyler jumped up and scooping the cash into his hand, called out, “The champion!”

“Happy birthday son,” Will said with a wink. The gesture did exactly what he hoped. Now everyone wondered if the old guy had let his son win. Well reputations die hard in Buck Hollow.


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https://fivedotoh.com/2021/10/18/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-140/