You are a customer lying face down on the floor during a bank robbery. Describe the robbery from this vantage point.
Right now, all I can think about is how this floor needs a right good clean – perhaps I ought to mention it to the manager? The sudden sound of a single gun shot, followed by screams, instantly jolts me back to the current situation, and I remember why I’m so close to the floor in the first place. I had just been about to leave the bank when the masked men burst in, brandishing guns. One had pushed me aside, which is partly how I ended up on the ground (they were yelling at everyone to get down too), and my shopping went everywhere – there’s a tin of custard still rolling along the floor.
So far the men haven’t hurt anyone (at least, not that I can see), but even I can tell that the manager is taking too long to get the money from the safe, and the men are getting impatient. In fact, they’re threatening him – us – again now, saying if he doesn’t hurry up they’re going to start shooting randomly. I can hear the sound of footsteps clacking off the floor; they’re getting closer to me, and oh god someone has grabbed my arm. They’re pulling me to my feet and I can’t do anything, and nobody is helping they’re too scared they don’t want to get hurt, I don’t blame them but I’m so scared and now I can feel the fun pressed to my temple oh god I’m –
Yep, I think it’s safe to say I have a habit of killing people off! I’m hoping next week’s will be a little more cheerful, and possibly even without a death! :O
A few weeks ago I bought a book called 642 Things To Write About , which is filled with prompts, opening lines, and suggestions of things to write about. I’ve decided that, instead of leaving them locked up in the book with nobody to read them, I would post them here. And, as they’re generally extremely short, I’ve come up with Flash Fiction Friday, where my intention is to post one of these stories every week (for those who don’t know, “flash fiction” is a term given to very short stories, usually between 300 and 1000 words).
My first prompt was: You are looking down through the skylight as chefs prepare dinner for your ex-fiance’s wedding , and this was my result!
The wedding cake was sitting right there. Right there below him in all its three-tiered glory. Slowly he pushed the window open further, hardly daring to breathe lest the chefs below noticed him. Fortunately they were all too busy rushing around adding the final touches to the main course to notice anything out of the ordinary, so with great trepidation he carefully lowered himself through the skylight towards the floor. There was a heart-stopping moment where he thought he’d totally misjudged the distances, but then he felt the tips of his strainers touch the floor and he relaxed as he let go of the windowsill.
He was now standing at the back of the kitchens, mere metres from the cake. Although he’d got this far without being seen, he couldn’t risk being discovered at this crucial point, so he grabbed a white jackets from a peg on the wall, slipping it on and instantly blending in with the rest of the staff. With his back to the rest of the kitchen, he removed the packet of arsenic from his inner pocket – he was pleased to notice its similarity to the cake decorations – and delicately sprinkled it all over the cake.
He smiled slowly to himself as he finished. That would teach her for running off with his brother.