Photo courtesy of Dale Rogerson’s real life and completely unrelated to my fictional tale, in case you were worried.
by T. Delaplain
A soft cough and a flash of Sunday best fabric announced the committee’s arrival; midwestern hospitality and a basket of freshly baked welcome. She stopped unpacking the life she no longer recognized; boxes full of illusion and stifling small town safety.
She debated her options before the first tentative knock. Her instructions were to, “blend in”, but her instincts said, “run.” She tucked her gun into the elastic of her polyester stretch pants, patted her new permanent waves and turned the knob.
She heard the pop before she felt the impact.
Well thank you Jesus, there would be no more muffins in hell.
Friday Fictioneers welcomes you.
Take a muffin and try your hand at 100 word fiction but your last breath.