| Mystery and Crime Flash Fiction posted July 3, 2016 |
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Flash Fiction-Potlatch Challenge
Second Honeymoon
by michaelcahill
Hatred can be at first sight just like love if you’re a believer in such things. I am. Love struck me down the first time I saw Melody Laine. Hatred took years to overcome the rapturous hold love had over me. Small things add up. In fact, I don’t sweat big things. Steal my car, just don’t steal my cigarette lighter. I hate going outside for a smoke and having no light. My car? I’ll call a cab. It’s worth stealing, it’s worth money and I get it. My lighter? C’mon.
I’m stranded on a desert isle, but Ginger and Mary Ann are nowhere in sight. Hell, Gilligan would be a welcome diversion. Melody’s dead as hell and so is any chance of rescue. The damn thing is, I planned it that way. The perfect crime as it were.
I’d scouted these waters and I knew this island to be unknown. I Googled every source I could think of and couldn’t find a satellite picture or a map showing it. An uncharted desert isle and I was the millionaire and I would be bringing my wife.
Maybe eating my chocolate Easter bunny tipped the scale from love to hate. Maybe giving my Green Lantern comic collection to my drooling nephew Cleavon did the trick. It’s a long list. Maybe it’s the fact I had a list. But, finances being what they were in a tight economy, murder trumped divorce.
All went well at first. She bought the private getaway, renew our love bullshit like she was shoveling chocolate cake in her pie hole. I anchored the Major Melody, my yachts name, and we took the dinghy to shore with our picnic basket all according to plan.
The sight of the couple rowing out to my yacht was disheartening to be sure. But nothing matches the silly ass feeling of watching my yacht slip beyond the horizon.
No telling how long this tour is going to be. I guess that’s up to me.
Hatred can be at first sight just like love if you’re a believer in such things. I am. Love struck me down the first time I saw Melody Laine. Hatred took years to overcome the rapturous hold love had over me. Small things add up. In fact, I don’t sweat big things. Steal my car, just don’t steal my cigarette lighter. I hate going outside for a smoke and having no light. My car? I’ll call a cab. It’s worth stealing, it’s worth money and I get it. My lighter? C’mon.
I’m stranded on a desert isle, but Ginger and Mary Ann are nowhere in sight. Hell, Gilligan would be a welcome diversion. Melody’s dead as hell and so is any chance of rescue. The damn thing is, I planned it that way. The perfect crime as it were.
I’d scouted these waters and I knew this island to be unknown. I Googled every source I could think of and couldn’t find a satellite picture or a map showing it. An uncharted desert isle and I was the millionaire and I would be bringing my wife.
Maybe eating my chocolate Easter bunny tipped the scale from love to hate. Maybe giving my Green Lantern comic collection to my drooling nephew Cleavon did the trick. It’s a long list. Maybe it’s the fact I had a list. But, finances being what they were in a tight economy, murder trumped divorce.
All went well at first. She bought the private getaway, renew our love bullshit like she was shoveling chocolate cake in her pie hole. I anchored the Major Melody, my yachts name, and we took the dinghy to shore with our picnic basket all according to plan.
The sight of the couple rowing out to my yacht was disheartening to be sure. But nothing matches the silly ass feeling of watching my yacht slip beyond the horizon.
No telling how long this tour is going to be. I guess that’s up to me.
I’m stranded on a desert isle, but Ginger and Mary Ann are nowhere in sight. Hell, Gilligan would be a welcome diversion. Melody’s dead as hell and so is any chance of rescue. The damn thing is, I planned it that way. The perfect crime as it were.
I’d scouted these waters and I knew this island to be unknown. I Googled every source I could think of and couldn’t find a satellite picture or a map showing it. An uncharted desert isle and I was the millionaire and I would be bringing my wife.
Maybe eating my chocolate Easter bunny tipped the scale from love to hate. Maybe giving my Green Lantern comic collection to my drooling nephew Cleavon did the trick. It’s a long list. Maybe it’s the fact I had a list. But, finances being what they were in a tight economy, murder trumped divorce.
All went well at first. She bought the private getaway, renew our love bullshit like she was shoveling chocolate cake in her pie hole. I anchored the Major Melody, my yachts name, and we took the dinghy to shore with our picnic basket all according to plan.
The sight of the couple rowing out to my yacht was disheartening to be sure. But nothing matches the silly ass feeling of watching my yacht slip beyond the horizon.
No telling how long this tour is going to be. I guess that’s up to me.
 Recognized |
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Started late. :)) Nineteen minutes start to post.
Flash fiction of no more than 500 words.Ã??Ã?Â
The theme is:-Ã??Ã?Â
'In the most unlikely of places' - the choice of genre is your own.Ã??Ã?Â
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