Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.
Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Fiction/Poetry Combination for others in the series.
I sat at a table on the patio, straining to make out the daily specials blue-chalked on a tiny board, while small planes from the municipal airport across the highway tottered into the sky or flailed their way to the ground, none of them going opposite to their intentions, thank goodness.
I ordered a Jumbo Jet Burger platter to go, my thoughts turning to the reason I’d chosen this lunch spot: as a true-crime groupie, it was inevitable I’d get the idea to make use of my knowledge, get rid of my worst enemy, open an offshore bank account and fill it up, and leave behind a constricted boring existence – in print and under a pseudonym, sure, but certainly that was enough, and now with my book climbing the best seller lists and sales rolling in, it was time for me to catch that chartered flight now waiting for me across the street, because – well, as I said, I’m only interested in true crimes.
beginning tomorrow night
when I am long gone.