I Played A Pretty Hand – Microfiction Short Story

I Played A Pretty Hand

The torch light shines pasts the thousands of decaying eyes that follow their every move, and shakily falls upon a small trickle of water that runs down a corner of the building. Theodore looks at the overly smug Ricardo, and then back to the focal point of the torches light.

“I-I-I, I don’t see it,” he says as he blinks repeatedly, before rubbing his eyes and staring with far more commitment than he know he should be placing in this desperate gamble that shows no fortitude or success.

Ricardo sighs loudly, then thrusts the torch as if it was a stick towards the puddle that has now formed at the base of the wall.

“Are you FUCKING telling me you CAN’T see that FUCKING POND!”

Theodore laughs nervously, gesturing towards the torch’s destination. “That’s hardly a pond Rich, it’s m…” he doesn’t get to finish his sarcastic barrage as Ricardo knocks him to the ground with a powerful left hook.

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOU TO BE AN ARSE THEO! WE AIN’T GOT MUCH OF ANYTHING RIGHT NOW I’LL ADMIT, BUT WHAT WE DO HAVE IS A FUCKING PLAN! SO YOU CAN EITHER STAND HERE AND CONTINUE BEING A CUNT, OR YOU CAN TAKE MY HAND AND HELP ME TURN THAT LITTLE FUCKING LEAK INTO A TSUNAMI!” Ricardo bellows before holding his hand out for Theodore to take.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s