Flash Club February Flash Club 2020

[Barbara]

The February Flash Club is now open. This month's prompt is a line from A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams.

Prompt:
Blanche: 'Whoever you are - I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.'

Word Count: 200-ish

As always, use the writing prompt as well as the word limit given to write a piece of flash fiction. Entry is open to all members. Feel free to enter more than one.

To take part in the competition, simply post your entry below.

On the 27th, I will close the thread and open a poll so you can vote for the winner.

New participants: if you haven't yet, please also read the Welcome to the Flash Club page. Welcome to The Flash Club

That's it. Any questions, PM me.

See you next month.

 

[Rich.]

Down But Not Out


You don’t want to be on the ropes in the eighth. Harvey took a glancing uppercut to the jaw. And you definitely don’t want to be wedged in a corner. He pulled in his guard, tucked in his chin, grounded both feet. His opponent missed a swing. Harvey jabbed, caught the other bloke square in the face. The bell rang. Sweet mercy.

Faisal the trainer towelled him off. “You can take him, Harv. You’re faster than he is. Go out fighting, boy. Go out fighting.”

Harvey glanced at the crowd. The red dress woman was in the front row. The one he’d met that morning. She was smiling. Harvey went out fast and hard, running on willpower. Body-body-head. His opponent staggered, rallied and swung with a street brawler’s roundhouse. Harvey saw it coming with time to spare.

He dropped his guard.

In the dressing room, Faisal’s look was pained.

“The new doctor will see to you. What were you playing at, Harv? You had him!”

Harvey shook his head.

Faisal gave him an envelope. “Woman in a red dress wanted you to have this.”

There was three grand inside. Harvey didn’t need to look to know it was there. “Go down in the ninth,” the woman had said, “and I’ll make it worth your while.”

The new doctor pushed him back on the gurney. “Hello, Harvey, I’m Doctor Bregham. Open your eye. This is going to sting.”

“Don’t worry,” said Harvey, relief spreading inside him, “whoever you are – I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

 

[Sarah J]

Donation

It’s a strange thing looking down on your own body. I could see the blood, that was expected. There had been blood on the car seats and coating the shards of glass sparkling on the road.

My face was covered with something blue, so were my legs. The only part I could see was my torso. It looked so much flatter than when I looked at it in the mirror, pinched the edges, wishing it was smaller. The surgeon lifted out the liver. It was so shiny and purple. My body sank into the gap it left behind.

I decided to follow the liver for a while. Didn’t seem that I needed my body now, I certainly couldn’t get back into it. I’d tried. The liver and I moved out of the operating theatre and past my foster mother who was sat against a pale green wall with a grey face and a pile of paperwork on the chair next to her.

A new theatre door opened, there was an empty space in a different torso and a hard grey liver in a bowl beside it. The fresh purple lump was tucked inside the cavity and the surgeon got to work.

I tried to peer over the blue screen and see a face. The light was bright, so bright the darkness faded.

Oh well, whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. It feels nice to be that stranger.

 

[Hannah F]

The Invitation​

A flat tyre. At night. Country lane. But only metres from lights, drunken cheers, aromas of beer and cooking steak. Someone in that inn would be able to change a wheel.

She looked behind her and there he was, his lips pressed into a “poor you” grimace.

‘Got a spare?’ He rolled up his white, shirt sleeves.

‘I do. And, whoever you are,’ Blanche tilted her head and donned a pleading expression, ‘I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.’

He smiled. ‘Good.’ He opened her boot, lifted out the wheel and jack.

Even his bare forearms stayed clean.

‘Are you a mechanic?’

‘Chef.’ He pulled a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket.

‘Oh, here.’ Blanche rummaged in her handbag, found her hand-wipes.

‘Thanks.’ He cleaned each fingertip. ‘But I’m joining the wedding now.’ He folded the wipe into his handkerchief, returned it to his pocket. ‘You want to come?’

‘No,’ Blanche said, wishing yes. ‘I must get back. My dog’ll need out.’

‘Another time then. You can judge my new recipe. Bring your dog.’ He produced a card. ‘My number.’

‘Monsiour Danté.’ Michelin!

‘And your name?’

‘Blanche.’ She felt the blush.

‘Ah.’ He looked amused. ‘The quote from “A streetcar”.’

‘Indeed.’ Blanche tapped the card. ‘Thank you, Monsiour Danté.’

She opened her car door. ‘Tomorrow?’

 

[Matthew Snoding]

Curious water

Roads turned into rivers; the army mobilised. Trenches dug; sandbags slumped against doors. Wind worries the roof, the windows, and we sit and wait, the kids and I.

We sing songs, to keep happy, huddled together in their top-floor room. But soon it will be dark, and things will be difficult. They worry, the children, about their mother, but she’s safe, that I know, on higher ground. I try to convince, but it’s in their nature to worry.

We missed our chance to leave, I missed our chance to leave. I thought, we’ll be OK. It never floods here. But I was wrong, like I have been so much recently, in this year of being wrong.

It’s getting dark, and still the rain, still the wind. I can hear the water lapping around, congregating downstairs, curiously picking up our things and setting them down wherever it will. Will we ever find anything again?

The younger one looks up and asks, will we be OK?

Of course, I say. Someone will come.

A stranger?

A kind stranger.

That’s OK then.

Her sister puts her arm around her, and we three sit and wait, listening through the rage for the sound of the coming stranger.

 

[DarrenB]

THE GREAT WHIP-ROUND

“Any plans for the weekend, Boss?” asks the taxi driver.

The Boss looks up from his seat; “A little weekend away on the coast I reckon. Nice hotel. Great view of the sea. Five star luxury at its best.”

“Your wife should appreciate that.”

The Boss looks at the photos of his family in his bulging wallet and erupts into loud laughter; “She thinks I'm on a fishing trip with the guys, bless her. If she knew I was playing away with a cocktail waitress half my age, she'd kill me.”

The driver looks through the rear view mirror at the flash man in the designer suit with envy. The Boss catches his gaze and smiles a broad evil smirk; “I'm picking her up in the new Ferrari. Got her some nice jewellery too. Should be a great weekend” he winks.

The driver frowns as he pulls up at the huge Tudor Mansion; “How the hell do you make so much money?”

The Boss chuckles to himself; “it’s Wednesday the 15th of April, or as us poor souls at the Inland Revenue call it: Christmas Day!” - The man grabs his Louis Vuitton briefcase and peels the driver a crisp fifty from a large roll; “Keep the change.”

The driver snatches the note; “You're the Taxman?”

The guy turns to walk to his luxury home, glances back; “Just living off the kindness of strangers, my friend.”

 

[Barbara]

February's Flash Club is now closed. Now we need a winner, so please get voting by using the poll in Café Life here.