Time with Friends
Time with Friends
A micro fiction by R.E. Holding - FREE SHORT STORY
I love to do Writing Battle stories. If you’ve never heard of Writing Battle, it’s a site hosted by Max, and I think there’s a battle 4 or 5 times a year. There is a relatively inexpensive entry fee, but there is also a cash prize for winning. It operates very much like a “March Madness” style face-off, and it is judged by everyone enrolled in the competition.
Plus, I’ve met several wonderful people in the community.
This was my entry for the Summer Micro Fiction challenge, where we had to come up with a 250 word story based on three random prompts. For me, I had the following prompts:
Genre: Jailbreak
Character: Rebel
Object: Violin
By the time you’re reading this story, the results have already been tallied, and for this particular story, I got an abysmal score. So, hopefully you don’t hate it!
Time with Friends
Melancholic vibrations of Shepherd's violin echoed through the chamber and Merrick felt a twinge of lament as he army-crawled forward. The Warden allowed Shepherd to play for chapel services, as he held a professional gig in the city orchestra before hiring that man to kill his wife.
Merrick immediately bonded with the violinist.
They were rebels together, always finding new ways to land in solitary... one... two weeks at a time. Separate, yet together.
The melodic worship music transformed into the soundtrack of Merrick's knees and elbows trudging through the muck. Separated again, it was inevitable the Warden's kindness would soften Shepherd enough to find the new plan unfit for his new leaf.
His loss.
A pinprick of light warbled in the distance. The closer Merrick wriggled toward the white glow, the fainter the hum of his friend's strings.
What would he find on the other side? Would things be different? Would she recognise him? Hard years drew hard lines across his brow, contrasted with deep laugh patterns etched around his mouth from the years he spent creating fracas with Shepherd.
There it was: the smell of freedom. Merrick wormed through the pipe to plunk into the collection pit.
Gazing up, a strange object buzzed by, spraying flashing lights and heavy sound beats. A flying car? Preposterous!
Merrick sighed while narrowing his eyes at the tail lights fading with the strange music. He couldn't lament the past. He needed to confront the future, as any good rebel would do.
END
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