It might have been nearly 10 years but she had recognised him instantly. That sly little smirk, those narrow, evil eyes - there were a few wrinkles, a few grey hairs, but it was him.
He'd mugged her in broad daylight and left her trapped in her home for a year, afraid to go out, unable to sleep, terrified of every sound.
And now here he was, in her shop, drinking her wine.
'This is a crisp, dry white wine from California,' she smiled, handing him the last glass on the tray. 'Gargle properly to get all the flavours. And spit - or not!' She winked at him.
He chose not to spit, just as she hoped. He might never know but revenge really was a piece of piss.
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FlashFlood Contributes to Best Microfiction 2021!
Huge congratulations to Bill Merklee and Regan Puckett, our two 2020 FlashFlood nominees who have been chosen to appear in Best Microfiction...
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We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
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How’d you do it, girl? Waitressing part-time at Steak ‘n’ Shake since the day after your sixteenth birthday, working weekends through high s...
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A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...
So many details in a few sentences, carries it further.
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