It’s a great day when I get to watch Graceful at work. The cowlick in his hair gets tossed around by the salty breeze. The sun glints across the words printed on the broad back of his wetsuit.
World Surf League.
The best triple whammy is headed our way.
I know if I can just grab onto the back of Graceful’s board, he can teach me to be like him.
I let out a groaning “Whoops!” as I pry shards of Graceful out of my teeth.
Today’s post is short story I wrote for another flash fiction contest (http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-alot-of-books-writing-contest.html). It wound up significantly less than 100 words, but I got a mention for “great start for a novel.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. Honestly, I’m a little afraid if I was to try to write in that genre, my villains would be a bit one-dimensional (evil for the sake of evil).
Enough lolly-gagging; here’s the story:
Some people say that I’m obsessed. I prefer the word focused. Or fixated. Do it 100 times, then 100 more.
I flash a devilish grin as I kick off my slippers. A girly, ribboned pair that I special order in bulk. Sometimes pink; sometimes purple. But basically the same pair.
So far, none of the crime scene techs has noticed.