My Friday Flash Fiction is a bit abbreviated due to the fact I am moving on Friday and better have my ass in gear. Which it is most definitely not. In gear, that is. So, I just re-used an idea and slapped something together. The picture has very little to do with the story; I just liked it.
Starter sentence in blue, as usual.
"As the rumble receded westward, a fine layer of dust settled on the tall stack of vintage condom boxes." The people inside the decrepit 7-11 scrambled for the exits. They streamed out of the doors, if 2 customers and one store clerk can be considered a stream, at record speed.
It turns out they escaped just in time, as the Ghost of Christmas Disappointed reconsidered and decided that a 7-11 was, in fact, worthy of destruction. They screamed as the giant velvet foot crushed the building in which they had been standing moments before. Their relief and gratitude to be left alive caused the Ghost to shrink slightly, but then he expanded again when the skater punk mourned the loss of his beloved Slurpee machine.
Despite regaining his momentary loss in stature, the Ghost vowed not to be so sloppy in the future. Gratitude was one of the few things that could destroy him.
