Sunday, March 7, 2021

365 Day's Writing in the Void: prompt 8

Write a 300-word story in the suspense genre. It's about an actor and should include a bottle of whiskey. Also, use the sentence 'Do you enjoy hurting people?' Bonus prompt: Civilization has come to an end.

Words Unspoken

"Damn it, Vern, how many times has it been this week?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, not even looking at his manager over the top of his bottle of whiskey.

Shards of an empty bottle crashed into the wall next to him, barely missing his skull. "Do you enjoy hurting people?  Do you take pleasure in causing us peons pain?"

"Look, Meredith, I don't want to get into it right now. The world as we know it has come to an end. Does it really matter to you anymore what I choose to do? It's not like you can ride the coattails of a has-been actor. He took another long pull on the bottle, not telling her he hadn't done any of the things that they'd printed about him in those rags. Better to drive her away now than take her down with him on this one man-sinking ship. 


The building shook, she let out a small involuntary squeal and grasped his arm, he gritted his teeth to keep from taking her in his arms, he knew how she'd react, he silently started counting in his head and began to wonder how they'd ended up like this. When had she stopped believing in him and started listening to the whispers of the ragmen instead? He sighed. 

She flung his arm away as soon as the building settled. “Vern, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, I am. I just don't understand what you want from me. We both know that with the war and the Virus, there isn't any work. We also know that I've been blacklisted, so even if you could find me something, they'd call back the next day and cancel.”

She stood by the door and turned back to looked at him, her hand grasping the handle, "so this is goodbye?"

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"You know, I loved you once."

"Yeah, I know."

"Take care," she walked out, a glisten of tears crossed her cheeks."

"You too," His throat tight, he took another swig on his whisky his back to the door under his breath, he whispered, "I love you still." The bottle slipping from his hands, shattering against the floor, unheard as an explosion decimated the building.

Fin- 3/7/2021

1 comment:

Tammy said...

Great short short, love reminds of Bogart and Bacall