I’m going to try something new: serial flash fiction. Basically, I have an idea that won’t fit into 1000 words, so I’m going to cheat and use as many words as I want in short increments. Here’s Part One.
Will started the coffee pots brewing and sat down at a table by the café’s front window to make a shopping list for the manager. He wrote FILTERS in bold letters; the manager never bought enough filters.
The rain had stopped and the street lamp outside made the water drops glisten on the Jaguar XF parked out front. It wasn’t new, but it was a nice car.
My car, thought Will with a smile. Thanks to his part time hours at the Gloucester Brew coffee shop, he’d finally climbed far enough out of debt to be trusted with a monthly car payment by the used car dealership.
The very early morning shift was perfect for him. He brewed the coffee, stocked the counter, his coworkers walked in as the sun rose, and before the morning rush was over, he was on his way to his day job. In his Jaguar. That was another perk of the job; the parking spot in front of the shop was always open when he clocked in.
A squeal of brakes down the block startled him from the adoration of his new wheels. A black LaFerrari peeled around the corner and gunned its motor. Will had just enough time to glimpse the novelty 007 license plate on the front of the car before it sped by the shop. He didn’t see where it went because his attention was drawn to the matching black SUVs following fifty feet behind the Ferrari.
A man in a black mask was leaning out of the passenger window of the first SUV, and a moment later he had a gun in hand and was shooting at the Ferrari. Will ducked down under the table, his heart racing. He heard the shattering of car glass.
He popped his head up to look. The Jaguar’s windows were intact. He knew he should duck again, but he couldn’t look away. The first SUV was just past the shop, and the second SUV was swerving wildly behind it. The Ferrari was returning fire. With a heart wrenching grind of metal on metal, the second SUV slammed into the row of parked cars and slid along it before straightening out in a lane.
Will felt the crunch of metal in his gut. The damage was on the other side, out of sight, but the SUV had swerved into his car. His car. Will pressed his cheek against the window and focused on the license plate of the second SUV. It disappeared around the corner after the first two vehicles and he grabbed his paper and pen and wrote the jumble of letters and numbers.
The silence felt oppressive after the popping of bullets and crunching of cars. His Jaguar. Slowly Will made his way to the door of the coffee shop and forced his feet across the sidewalk and into the street.
It was worse that he’d feared. The driver’s side door was bashed in and a long scrape led from the crater to the headlight.
He hadn’t bought insurance yet and if he fixed the dent, he wouldn’t have enough for rent. His glorious new beginning was slipping away. Will looked down at the paper clutched in his hand. He knew someone who could make them pay.
Images courtesy of everystockphoto.com and cargurus.com.