Broken Fiction

Not "broken" so much as "a break".

I'm taking a break from Fiction Fridays for the holidays.

See you in January!

Fiction Friday - A Good Day for Food Poisoning

Lonny's hand was on his stomach as he pushed the glass door open to the employee exit. He was leaving work early, a thing he never did. But this...

He doubled over in pain as another stomach cramp hit him, grimaced, panted a few times to get through the stabbing pains, finally lifting himself up to try to cross over to the parking garage. The security guard sitting behind her check-in counter had raised her head out of her magazine when he doubled over, and now asked, "You alright there? Need me to call anyone?"

Lonny raised a hand to wave off any help, and shook his head briefly. He didn't want to risk opening his mouth to speak in case the pain could be heard in his voice. It must be food poisoning. He was halfway across to the parking garage when a dark movement in the corner of his eye made him turn.

A slender woman in a dark suit strode toward the guard, her heels clip-clopping on the pavement. She saw neither person, eyes fixed on the door, not even slowing as she flashed an ID badge at the guard. The determined face and determined pace, along with the professional suit, told Lonny she was corporate and something was going down. He watched her pass, half-hoping she'd match that furious determination with enough power to wrench the industrial glass door off its hinges.

He was disappointed in that hope. Her pace never faltered as she reached out a hand and smacked the button for disabled accessibility a few feet before the doors, which opened just in time for her to continue through this back entrance to the lobby. 

After such a fierce entrance, however, the woman stopped, turned left and right, then opened a panel on the huge pillar to her left, keying into whatever was in the box. bolts dropped through the doors, top and bottom. It was a lockdown.

Lonny looked at the guard, who was still watching the woman with a corporate ID through the back of the lobby. He was torn between wanting to ask her what was going on, and not wanting to draw attention to himself. If it was a lockdown, calling attention to himself might mean going back inside, and he needed to see a doctor.

In the elevator to his parking level, he wondered if it was about the joke someone posted on Twitter the night before. It made the CEO a laughingstock, and Lonny thought he might have just enough temper to miss the joke and lockdown the building until the tweeter was found. Someone could get fired today, but it wouldn't be Lonny.

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment.

Fiction Friday - Chasing Chaos

Skylar was running. She didn't know where she'd run to, but she couldn't stay in town. She was one of the fortunate ones. Or smart. When the screams broke the night and woke her, she'd grabbed a hoodie and pulled on her running shoes that were waiting for her by the door before going out to join the mobs of people trying to find out what part of governmental collapse had broken the city center.

And then she ran in the opposite direction.

In fact, while others were already rushing through the downtown to the civic buildings and the vigil at the memorial, she had taken a minute to throw some necessities into a backpack. Whatever it was, she had waited long enough. It was time to leave. Past time.

She didn't really care which side was at fault. Everyone expected the collapse - news,  social media, customers in the shop where she worked, buddies at her gym, everyone. It was inevitable. She wasn't going to wait for the morning news to find out.

And now, here she was, running over the ranging hills of farmland in the early dawn while the city burned behind her. 

Maybe everything would be fine.

Yeah. And maybe my grandmother is going to rise from the dead to chastise me on my life's choices. Again.

Now as she settled into a long-distance stride, she thought again about her luck. No doubt the city exits were closed off already. All those people who ran in toward the city center to get answers were stuck there. Whatever happened next, they could deal with it. 

Or not. Whatever way the politics fell, she was out of there.

And the fake identification she'd had prepared months ago would help officials in other places trust that she was not one of the troublemakers from this horrible place. She'd be free to start whatever chaos she wanted in whatever place she'd land.

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment.