(Author’s note: I have been gone for the last two weeks, due to an unfortunate car accident which left me in outpatient recovery. Dealing with the drama, I was unable to really concentrate on writing until today. So here is today’s fictioneers, hobbled as I may be.)
© Jean Hays
Hangin’ By A Thread
by Miles H. Rost
The last shot.
Mitch was called to the abandoned market off Highway 66. His girlfriend wanted to talk. They had been going through a rough patch, started by a casual off-word about her life choices.
He figured this was his last shot at making up with a woman who truly loved.
He downed the whiskey and sat on the trunk of his large Cadillac. He waited until he heard the familiar whine of her VW Beetle.
The Beetle stopped in front. The window rolled down.
She leveled the shotgun and fired.
The radiator exploded.
She peeled out.
Mitch stood there, stone-faced.
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Music and Fiction 
Seems a reconciliation is unlikely, hmm?
Yeeeeeeeeah, I don’t think so. Thanks for the stop by!
Love the multi-layered meaning of “the last shot”. Wishing you recovery from your car accident drama and trauma.
My word! Better not to reconcile with her–she may use the shotgun on him next!
I don’t think that’s gonna be happening for the old son of a gun.
I’m wanting to make sure all she hit was the radiator! Nice!
A warning shot? I hope he doesn’t fall for that again.
Took out his radiator to boot. How will he keep his cool while he drives?
Little did he know it would be her last shot…. though unexpectedly different.
Nice piece.
Randy
Thanks, Randy! It was her last shot. And she made it stick with him.