#LastLineFirst – A #FlashFiction Challenge: Week 13

last line firstOops! Nearly forgot to launch this week’s Last Line First! My excuse is that it’s the school holidays and, as usual, I’ve lost track of the days. Bad host. Bad, bad host! Sorry. Anyhoo …

Your last line prompt this week is from The Indescribable Girl by Voima Oy. I picked it because it has the potential to lead into both a cheery story and a not-so cheery story. What kind of day has your protagonist had that could make them start their tale with such a statement? Will the next word be ‘but’ or ‘because’ or something else entirely?

Remember, you have until midnight on Sunday 19th April to comment on this post with your ≤200 word flash-fictions, and you can tweak the prompt however you see fit. For a full run-down of the rules and easy access to previous challenges and their stories please visit this page.

So, here’s your new first line:

Some days I love this job.

Happy Flashing!

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6 thoughts on “#LastLineFirst – A #FlashFiction Challenge: Week 13

  1. Live For Something (198 words)

    Some days I love this job. Other days, it’s the death of me.

    You certainly do see both sides of people; the good, the bad and the downright evil! Don’t get me wrong though. I will continue to serve and protect… Even if it kills me, which it probably will…

    I’m not the only one. There were others before me and there will be others long after I am gone. Those who want to fight the good cause. Those who want to protect those that need it the most from those who survive and thrive by taking advantage of them.

    So what am I really? I guess some would call me a vigilante; others would call me a hero. Me? I just think I’m a nice guy who’s trying to do what’s right. Sure, I have a gift; perhaps a power. It enables me to be what I am and do what I do; like a real life superhero.

    Am I as good as they say I am at what I do? To be honest, I don’t know, but I have one parting question for you. Isn’t it better to live for something then to die for nothing?

  2. Some days I love this job.

    But most days I hate it.

    Don’t get me wrong, the salary and benefits are unreal. Paid sick leave for stubbing a toe, 3 weeks’ vacation and accumulating, time and 1/2 for over hours, full health coverage–hell, I’ve got enough life insurance to bring me back from the dead.

    And the job isn’t hard either. I basically baby sit computer monitors for a living. The most physical exertion it requires is lifting the donuts to my food hole and clickclicking away the occasional pop up ad.

    There were a few times things got exciting. The whole circuit breaker in the back went down after a random flood. Still not sure how that happened… Liquid is only allowed in closed containers and we’re light-years from the nearest planetary system that holds water.

    Then that other time the lights flickered and the power nearly went out. THAT woulda been a disaster. I was sweating drops the size of asteroids.

    Other than that zip.

    It’s not worth it.

    I mean honestly would you want to be the guy who keeps reality online? Making sure no surges cut the system, no glitches tear that sensitive fabric of pixels?

    It sucks, Man.

    I need a vacation.

  3. Some days I love this job.

    There are the slow days, where everyone’s seen worse things and they slope in, heavy-eyed, sitting at the lobby bar if they’re feeling social, emptying the minibar if not.

    They dismiss the knocks as the sounds of an old house settling its bones. They don’t see anything they don’t want to see. Those days are long and boring and now, more often than not, I retreat to the attic and moan to myself.

    The best days are when families come, or groups of young people. The younger they are, the easier the scare – even though kids think they’ve seen it all nowadays.

    A quick flash in the mirror behind them and a toothbrush clatters into the sink. A creak of the door and someone calls out for mom or dad, voices thin and reedy in the dark.

    If I get a few of these in a row, it becomes even more elaborate. Music boxes playing. Tapping at the windows or – best of all – at the mirrors. Blood oozing from the walls.

    Their screams are music to my ears.

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