Daily Flash Fiction
Daily Flash Fiction Stories
|Word Count: 300
Ned glanced to his left, and then his right, trying to see through the throng. Standing at only five feet, his view consisted of chests and barrel-sized arms. His small stature had proven perfect for his career but unfortunately, in a place like this, it was definitely a deterrent.
The area smelled like sour sweat, cheap aftershave and a plethora of other things he didn't want to think about. His ears picked up the rhythmic thwacking of a basketball hitting cement and iron banging against iron.
When the crowd in front of him dispersed at last, Ned stared with disquiet at the numerous groups of men surrounding him. Some talked quietly amongst themselves; others stared back with obvious distrust. Ned stood alone. Running a wrinkled hand over the wispy tuft of white hair that still remained on his head, he hated the fact that he was back here. Age had caught up with him and now, Ned knew he would have to fend for himself.
Shifting to his left, Ned turned in the direction of the shout.
“Ned--over here,” the voice called out with more insistence.
Ned moved closer toward the wall, and the bench that leaned against it. To his surprise he saw Frank, an old friend whom he had worked with many moons ago.
“Fancy meeting you here,” smiled Ned, feeling a tad better. Taking a seat next to Frank, the two men reminisced about the good old days, when jobs were simpler and times less stressful.
“So, what landed you back in prison,” Ned asked, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare.
Well, you see, Ned, you apparently talked too much in court and…”
Ned did not see the prison-made shank in Frank’s hand until it was too late.