Flash Fiction – The Job

Chicken SandwichToday you can write about anything, in whatever genre or form, but your post must include a speeding car, a phone call, and a crisp, bright morning. (Wildcard: you can swap any of the above for a good joke.)

I think the only response to today’s daily prompt is to write a piece of flash fiction. It’s been a while since I’ve written any. So, I’ll write some flash fiction that includes a…

  • speeding car
  • phone call
  • crisp bright morning.

My propensity is to write about dark, tragic events often with violence or there’s just plain weirdness going on, but risking a teeny-tiny spoiler, I’m going to keep things on the lighter side. That’s right, it’s all going to be hugs and puppies as far as this is concerned.

Ok, so here we go…


The sky was a reddish-orange that most people only see in the winter, and the grass dusted with frost. Mike held the hot thermos of coffee in his hands and waited for his lift. John was never on time.

Ten minutes became an hour, the orange of the sky eventually gave way to a pale, morning blue streaked with golden clouds and there was still no sign of Mike. John was Mike’s work colleague and they generally got on well enough, it wasn’t so much that he was late that was bothering him as Mike always planned for things in plenty of time but it was excruciatingly cold. His coffee was now offering little more than slow warmth and he had stopped feeling his toes about fifteen minutes ago, got knows if his fingers could still function at this temperature, though he would find that out later.

Just as Mike started to wonder if he would ever turn up, John’s Audi spun round the corner, and came screeching to a halt next to him.

Subtle, thought Mike as the window rolled down and a warm cloud of cigarette smoke billowed out into the morning that made Mike’s eyes water. All John had to do was drive Mike around, and not stand out. John was a good driver, but blending in was not his forte.

‘Sorry I’m late, chap. Been waiting long?” shouted John over the sound of Wagner.

‘Long enough’ said Mike passively as he got into the passenger seat.

The journey didn’t take long and as John yammered on and on about nothing while spraying most of his chicken sandwich across his lap, Mike remained focused. He looked at the picture on his lap, it was of a man in a dark suit, taking an envelope from another man in a dark suit. Mr Carnascis was no stranger to taking envelopes, and today they were going to finally get him. Two months of planning and it all came down to this, he had one shot. If he blew it his boss would give them hell.

As they pulled up Mike’s phone rang, flipping it open he held it up to his ear and listened without saying a word. After a few seconds he clicked the phone shut again.

John threw the remnants of his chicken sandwich out of the car window and looked at Mike, with the kind of nervous excited look that all new guys had.

Mike smiled.

‘Change of plan…?” said John.

There was a popping sound and John slumped forward in his seat,

Mike, took the revolver out of his pocket, and refilled the chamber, just as Mr Carnascis car pulled into view.

‘Sorry John, this guy’s mine.’


Yeah, alright I know I said it wouldn’t get dark… and I tried I really did.


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