Are you taking part in #FlashFictionFebruary2019?
It’s never too late to start. Even one story for the month is one more than you had previously!
Today’s Story Title: Blast from the Past
Today’s Story Is #3 of 28
Today’s Genre: Urban Fantasy
Today’s Word Count: 636
What’s your current story? How many have you achieved so far? What is your favorite genre to write in? Tell me all about it!
The phone buzzing had Polly tearing her eyes away from where she had been glaring at the last four lines of code for over an hour.
‘Heyo’ the message read.
She picked up her cell, tapping the message notification to see who it was from.
Polly didn’t recognize the number at all.
‘Howdy’ a second message said a moment later.
‘Hi’ Polly tapped the response with one thumb and hit send.
‘Glad you answered, Polly Dolly’ the next message read.
“Oh for-really?!” She clenched her fist around the phone, scowling. “Why? Why are you-I’m trying to work!” she shouted at the phone screen. “What do you want, Andrew?” Polly snapped as she furiously typed out the same and hit send.
‘Go to dinner with me’ the next message said.
“How about…” Polly quickly typed a reply, smacking her phone back to the top of the desk after sending the message.
She glared back at the computer screen, her eyes narrowing further when the phone buzzed again. She didn’t even pick up the phone this time, just frowned at the notification.
‘How mature’ his response read.
“Yeah, whatever. Jackanape,” Polly muttered, trying to focus back on her work.
‘I’ve kissed you before but not your ass’ the next message.
Annoyed, she tapped the screen several times, the last to put the phone on speaker as it rang through to Andrew.
“Hey, fucker,” she snapped as soon as the phone picked up. “I am trying to work. I don’t know or care how you got my number. But you better lose it again.”
“I haven’t called you in a long while,” Andrew’s response sounded oddly far away as he replied, slightly hollow and echo-laden.
“You’re still being a-a creepy creep,” Polly retorted.
“By not calling you for a few decades?” Andrew’s response was even fainted sounding. “Look, can we argue later?” He sounded like he was straining. “I actually need something.”
“So why are you even calling me?” Polly asked. “I don’t think I’ve spoken to you since…”
“You lived in East Germany and we had to wall hop for a decent dinner, yeah.”
There was a clank of metal and a soft splash.
“Oh, that’s disgusting.”
The audio glitched out as if censoring the brief storm of profanity from Andrew.
“Where are you?” Polly saved with a tap on the mouse and shut the laptop lid. “Your reception sucks.”
“Oh, a pair of cocky ass hunters thought they could stake me. So now I’m evading them through the sewers.” There was another splash and growl of frustration.
Polly leaned both elbows on her desk and dropped her head into her hands.
“I swear to whatever god is currently fashionable, if you show up at my front door reeking of raw sewage, I will stake you myself and duct tape you to the porch to toast at dawn.”
“The centuries have not improved your humors, have they?” Andrew asked.
“Oh, just… bite me!” Polly smacked one hand against the desk in irritation. Everything skittered a few inches from her action.
“I do believe I did,” cane the drawled reply.
“I hate you,” Polly declared, picking up the phone to hang up.
“Hate me all you want, Polly Dolly,” Andrew said, “but for fuck’s sake bring me a change of clothes to that club on 10th. Please.”
“You owe me,” Polly said, rolling her eyes as Andrew cursed again on the other end. “At least three nubile college kids without any diseases or drugs.”
“One college kid,” Andrew countered.
“Two, and they don’t even have to be virgins,” Polly bargained.
“Done. See you in an hour.”
Polly hung up and stood from her desk with a sigh.
“Oh well. Free food is free food, right, Izzy?” Polly asked her cat.
Isabella the 43rd meowed her agreement and demanded skritches.