He was the illegitimate son of a defrocked minister who had once set the ladies’ hearts aflutter with his physical beauty and convincing talk of hellfire and damnation. Or so Trace had heard—he’d never had the pleasure of meeting that fine gentleman. He’d inherited his daddy’s looks, but not his calling. Now, as he fled the scene of his last, botched robbery, dragging his bullet-shattered leg behind him, Trace finally came within sight of his father’s abandoned church. Though only a husk of its former self, it seemed as good a place to make his last stand as any.
(c) 2012 Seana Graham
Good one, seana
ReplyDeleteVery nice, Seana! I posted the link for the 16th.
ReplyDeleteWow, you guys are fast! Thanks for the read, and thanks for the idea, Patti.
ReplyDeleteI like that. Tasty n hardboiled.
ReplyDeleteGood stuff. It actually sparked an idea for a longer piece in my head.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Paul. Although that does sound a bit like a deviled egg.
ReplyDeleteJack, go with it. In fact, ride like the wind!
There's definitely a longer story here--and I'd love to hear it.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Katherine. Well, sounds like either Jack or I will write it. Maybe both...
ReplyDeleteNicely done, Seana!!
ReplyDelete"He was the illegitimate son of a defrocked minister..." great line to begin a drabble with, Seana! Enjoyed it and many thanks.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Prashant. This was a fun one to write once that opening came to me.
ReplyDeleteThere's always something about a preacher gone bad, isn't there?
ReplyDeleteNicely done, madam.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Loren. It certainly gives a certain kick to a very short story that a nice regular minister lacks.
ReplyDelete