by Michael Seese
Another week, another contest.
After two unsuccessful attempts to foil the brilliant Steve Forti, Janet is crying uncle, throwing in the towel, going belly up, and giving us a "normal" contest, the "slightly uneven, off kilter, write your way back to normal flash fiction contest."
She challenged us to use:
in a 100-word story. Wishing to do something fun with "kilter," I came up with Tilted**
“Hey, MacLeod! Your balls are showing. You ought to get a better slip.”
Kilters always hate it when you insult their tartans.
Sure, my trolling bordered on juvenile. But I needed him off his game. Rumor had it a buyer was coming.
Then she walked in. I nearly flipped. A definite A-lister.
“Nice,” she cooed, touching me, pressing all the right buttons, ringing my bells. “Very clean. I'll...”
She saw him and lit up. Like we did, once.
“Funhouse may be a classic. But Highlander was my favorite. I spent hours playing it. Sold.”
Story of my life.
** the reason I added asterisks is, much like last week, all too late I realized I goofed. Last week was a missing dash, which she forgave me (and others) for. This week, I didn't quite nail the ending. The now all-too-obvious last line should have been "Tilted again," a play on "Jilted Again."
We'll see what happens tomorrow.