Monday, June 29, 2015

End of Shift - SHORT STORY

Hey, friend! I want to write more and exercise my skills. To do so, I am going to start writing short stories based off of writing prompts. Maybe I'll try to do one a week? Maybe every other week? Maybe this will be the only one. But let's be optimistic, shall we?

I found an awesome tumblr called One Sentence Writing Prompts. Along with writing tips, this site provides sentences that can serve as the first sentence to whatever you are writing. Pretty nifty. 

I picked a sentence out and wrote a little story below, called "End of Shift." Hope you like it! (The prompt is in bold.)

End of Shift

"I don't have to do anything," he frowned, then pulled the trigger.

Larry Richard was quite done with everything. 

His girlfriend was bored with him. His friends were all moving away or getting married or acting distant. His parents were busy being retired and traveling the world. Even his cat, Mr. Hubble, didn't want anything to do with him. 

Larry saw Mr. Hubble (named after Edwin Hubble - the man who discovered the cosmos) cuddling up to his neighbor the other day when he was taking out the trash. That sneaky little bastard thought he wouldn't notice. But he did. The bastard. And he would definitely be remembering the next time Mr. Hubble wanted his ears scratched. Yes, he would. 

This morning Larry's toaster oven burnt his toast, he stubbed his toe on the doorframe of his bathroom, and he almost forgot his cell phone. Then his car wouldn't start, it was falling apart, he was late to work, and his boss got smart. Those may be lyrics to the Shania Twain classic, Honey, I'm Home, but that doesn't mean it wasn't true. 

At the end of his shift, Larry was staring down the clock. Ready to bolt out like a runner waiting for the starting pistol to be fired. The minute hand slowly moved. 56... 57... 58...


Larry's boss, Todd, yelled from the back of the Pizza Hut. Larry rolled his eyes and pretended not to hear. 

"Larry! One more delivery! Take those pies out at the end of your shift!"

The minute hand moved to 59. It was past the end of his shift.

"Larry! Do ya hear me?!"

The minute hand moved to 00. Larry walked out the door.

"Larry! You got those pies? Larry! You have to get that order out!"

"I don't have to do anything," he frowned, then pulled the trigger.

The front right tire of his car went flat. 

"I don't have to do anything."

Larry was tired. He started the long walk home and left his old, falling apart car behind. It was time to get a new one anyway.

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