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Friday, 14 October 2016

Good Decision - Fool's Gold - Taking the Biscuit

Flash Fiction / Micro Fiction
Length - 100 words each

Three pieces written for the competition theme 'Cool'.
* 'Good Decision' finished 3rd Place in the competition!

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Good Decision

'Sorry mate. It's all over the internet.'
                Johnny set the cracked wing mirror down atop the wreck as his friend showed him footage from his smartphone. In it, Johnny's now ex-girlfriend appeared to lay into his new car with a sledgehammer.
                'She asked me to choose,' Johnny said, shrugging his shoulders. 'I guess she didn't like my answer.'
                'You seem remarkably cool about this.'
                Johnny grinned, took his car keys from his pocket and raised them into the air, pressing the button. Behind him, an identical make and model blinked into life.
                'I bought mine because I liked my neighbour's...'
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Fool's Gold

He hauled the heavy rune-inscribed stone door shut, the remainder of their company catching a breath after their flight through the volcano's sweltering basalt passages. Odd then, that he could see it, their deep expulsions lingering as mist in the guttering torchlight.
                'Why's it so cool in here?'
                A brittle tinkling melody encroached their position. Panicking, a man cracked open the native's special fire ward and it lit the room, dazzling them from a multitude of ice facets all about them. It'd do little else.
                He slumped down. 'Tricked'. A blue-white scaled beast shot into view. 'Wrong type of dragon.' 

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Taking the Biscuit

'So you poured them over his head? Are you crazy!?'
                'They were clearly labelled! He used my chilli sauce too!'
                Chris looked at the mess. Light biscuit fragments scattered from an upturned bucket by their new flatmate's bedroom door. A flaky trail led to the bathroom where he was about to shower.
                'Well at least you didn't pour that over him as well.'
                'I said he could use my shampoo...' Michael sat at the table with steepled fingers.
                Then Chris noticed the empty chilli sauce bottle, a jug full of white, viscous liquid beside it. 'Not cool, man. Not cool.'

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