It’s been a few weeks, so I thought it time to submit yet another 100 word (ish) submission to the Friday Fictioneers. Photo prompt this week is courtesy of Clair Fuller.
As always, comments are appreciated. I will try to read everyone’s submission, but with submissions reaching triple digits each week, it’s difficult to get round to everyone. Therefore, I try to read those who I follow, or who like / comment my story. I also hit a random selection from the list. You know know what gems you will find.
Finally, a short word on the weekly challenge. The Friday Fictioneers are a friendly group of online writers from all over the globe who endeavour to create short but fantastical tales with which to enthral and inspire both reader and writer alike. The genres and styles of writing are varied, so there’s something for everyone to be found within its midst.
‘Five minutes boss, he’ll be singing like a canary.’
Tommy’s high pitched squeal, mixed with a soft Glaswegian accent, belied his brutish appearance. Knuckles swollen and calloused, Tommy raised his fists to continue. If nothing else, he was enthusiastic.
‘Easy lad. The guy’s trying to talk.’
The subject of Tommy’s wrath was tied to a chair, face bruised from my enforcer’s exertations. Part of me felt sympathy for the guy; he was new to the area and didn’t know the turf. The second-hand car market was a cut throat business and didn’t take kindly to competition. Sometimes, you just had to make a statement.
Waving Tommy back, I indicated for the guy to speak.
‘You win Neil’, he spat through broken teeth. ‘Have the damn furry dice.’