I’m at it again. I’m taking part in another flash fiction challenge. My hope is that these challenges will help me build my writing muscles.
Writing about myself day in and day out is ‘easy’, whereas trying to create a fictitious story is hard (for me). Oh, and did I mention the fact that, during Christmas my brother made a comment to me about my writing? Yeah, I took his comment to mean something along the lines of, “If you are telling stories about yourself, it’s not really writing.”
I think a part of me believes him, so I am looking to build muscles where flab currently exists. (FYI: I hate exercising.)
The challenge, write a flash fiction story with no less than 100 words and nor more than 250 words, including a prompt specified by the challenger, Siobhan Muir. For this challenge the prompt to include was: “His name was Milo Scaggins.” Just like the last challenge I entered, I am suppose to submit my entry in the comments section of Siobhan’s post. Well, I did that – and now I am sharing the story with you.
.: His name was Milo Scaggins :.
She spun around to see who slammed her door. “Jack! What are you doing?”
“I’ve been trying to call you all day. I am tired of being ignored, Beth.”
“Well, rest assured, your entrance was noticed by many.”
She hated the lack of privacy that came with the so-called stylishly modern glass paneled offices. The slam itself was enough to turn heads, and the windows gave everyone a front row seat to the show.
“Look,” he began. “What happened last night was a mistake.”
“You embarrassed me in front of the Board of Directors, Jack. You knew damn well what you were doing.”
“The guy was going to back out of the deal, Beth. I had to stop you before you claimed it was closed.”
“Yeah, well – your timing sucked.”
“I’m sorry. Really.”
“Jack, the Board wants me to submit a report, explaining my full intentions. What the hell am I going to tell them?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll think of something.”
“You need to call your contact and get his ass here right now. I’m tired of him working in the shadows.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Beth.”
“What?! What do you mean?! It’s his fault the deal didn’t close. Give me his name, I’ll find him.”
“His name was Milo Scaggins.”
“Milo was murdered.”
“Seems we have opened a door that was meant to stay closed.”