Pea Shooter, a Flash Fiction

This story was written for Friday Fictioneers, for which I am not as late as usual. Thank you Rochelle! If you’d like to take part, click here.


PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Pea Shooter

The old town died little-by-little after the factory closed. The folks with means moved away; those without saved, which took a little longer.

Daddy remained, keeping the market going for folks who couldn’t drive sixty miles to Walmart.

I was there when the fourth robbery occurred. Johnny-Lee, ski-mask pulled over his face, brandished a gun, tried to disguise his voice.

“If you gimme the money, I won’t hurt y’all.”

“Now, Johnny-Lee.”

Johnny-Lee hit Daddy with the gun butt. Blood splattered.

My cheating boyfriend pointed the gun at me. “The money.” A horn honked then the canned peas hit his forehead.

end

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