Flash Fiction: After the Convenience Store

 

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Sometimes you run without knowing why.

At least, that’s what I said while being interrogated. Hours must have passed already since I ran from the convenience store, smoked that final I-plan-to-quit cigarette, threw my bloodstained t-shirt in a random dumpster, and counted the cash that was now being called “evidence.”  The thing is, I’d stopped running a few times in between there and here.

-db

Word count: 64

Fiction | Broken Heel

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Image from About.com

Leila twisted her right ankle again.  Her right arm still hurt, too.  Plus, she was out of breath. On the ground lay the right heel of the knock-off Jimmy Choo’s she had only bought the day before. I need it, she thought.  She had already lost one customer for the day, and going home was not an option.

-db

Word count: 58