Flash Fiction February 2019 Daily Update: February 10th

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: Closing Time

Today’s Story Is #10 of 28

Today’s Genre: Mystery

Today’s Word Count: 349

What’s your current story? How many have you achieved? Tell me all about it!

The coffee shop was literally three minutes from closing when Walter burst in. He had yanked the door open so fiercely, it was stuck open despite the wind gusting the opposite way.

The thunderstorm raging outside quickly started to spread its presence over the freshly-mopped floor. Between the mud on his clothing and the water he was tracking in, Harold already knew his hopes of getting home within twenty minutes after closing were fucking sunk.

“Welcome to-“

“Call the cops! I’ve been murdered!” Walter demanded.

He slapped his wet palms onto the countertop and stared down the now-motionless barista. “I’ve been murdered!”

“I-what? I’m-I’m sorry, sir,” Harold backed up towards the drive through window, trying to put distance between himself and the crazy man. “But I don’t know-“

“Don’t just stand there, call the cops!” Walter demanded again. “Call ‘em! I’m dead!”

Harold fumbled blindly under the drive through till to hit the silent alarm as he kept both eyes on the man.

“Okay, I’m going to do that, but I need you to calm down, sir,” Harold said in a calm, slow voice. The phone was just a few feet away, on the counter near the coffee grounds they hadn’t yet disposed of for the night.

“Look! There’s my body!” Walter moaned.

His eyes were open so wide, it looked as though they would pop out of his head. He pointed frantically, flinging rainwater and more mud across the floor.

Harold jabbed the silent alarm one more time and the. carefully leaned forward just enough to see where the weirdo was pointing.

There was a lump in the middle of the parking lot.

When lightning suddenly flashed, Harold could see a face on it. One pale hand was visible, too. It looked like was a person.

Another flash of light, this one close enough to roar thunder almost immediately after, had the power flickering

There was a flash of green and percussive thump from somewhere in the night. The lights flickered again. Overhead, the lights struggled, dimming for a moment, then going dark.

“We’re all dead,” Walter moaned.

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