Day 7: Write A Story In Dialogue
We’re changing tack today: writing in dialogue!
Write a story containing only dialogue
The Smell of Evil Continues
“Where have you been,” I demanded when my husband came home reeking of stale smoke, beer and Shalimar.
“Bud and I stopped by the Den for a couple of cold ones after work,” he said refusing to meet my eyes.
“Was that bitch there?” “You smell of her evil scent,” I snapped at him.
“She’s always there, but I promise we only talked,” he continued to squirm and left the room.
“We she there when you left?” I demanded.
“Yeah, she was playing pool,” came a much too quick reply.
As I walked out the front door, he yelled, “Don’t you go down there and start trouble.”
I answered, “Don’t tell me what to do … ever,’ as I slammed the door. Muttering under my breath, “Trouble started when that bitch rolled into town.”
Arriving at the Den, I met all my friends outside having called them on the way. Without a word and a raised eyebrow, we went inside.
“Just where are you supposed to be?” Bud’s wife demanded.
His eyes were saucer-wide and sporting a lipstick stained neck,” I was just leaving he stammered.
“Bud was only teaching me a few new pool tricks,” the bitch purred.
“I guess those red smudges on Bud’s neck were how you thanked him,” my friend accused.
Circling the bitch, my friends and I not so gently guided her outside, “Now get in that POS car of yours and start driving,” Bud’s wife screamed in her face.
“Make me,” she said with one hand on her hip.
The four of use will go to our graves with the secret of what happened next. As she started her car, “And never come back,” we screamed together.
Racing to my car, the four of us talked about what we would individually do to her if she poked her slutty nose back into town. Bud’s wife screamed, “Follow that bitch.”
I drove staying on her back bumper. Honking and screaming at the top of our lungs we chased her out-of-town. She hit 85 at Dead Man’s Curve and the last we saw were tail lights falling over the ridge. Stopping to watch the car bounce from rock to rock, the last we saw of her were those red tail lights slowly being sucked into the river.
In a joyous chorus, there was one last scream from us … a collective, “Oh Shit!” and in a flash of red lightning everything was gone.
Copyright © 2016 Annie Original Flash Fiction
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie