Ficlets

A liquor cabinet full of hope.

Scissors of justice, a pervert’s panty stash of righteousness.

Slice slice. Pop. Stuff.

Pop stuff. Slice pop stuff. Pop pop. Slice slice, stuff stuff.

A few more times, an empty liquor cabinet. The unfazed owner moldered in the corner.

I grabbed a laundry basket, collected my handiwork, and headed for the roof.

The dark sky was ready to unleash forty days and nights of doom. Only needed it to wait a few minutes.

The squeal of abused hydraulics and flickering shadows in the light of burning cars told me it was time.

Fft. Fft. Wind was too hard.

Crouching. I shielded the lighter with my body.

Fwish!

A touch to the pink now-rag. Feeble flame.

Clank. Looked up.

Red lights stared into me. Rusty claws dug into the bricks.

Pitter-patter. Clouds of death. Of fallout and dust.

I stood slowly and backed away. Monster crunched forward.

Pitter-patter patter patter.

Over the basket.

Patter, pitter. Pitterpatter.

I tensed.

Pat…ter. Pit-

A throw from my soul.

-ter?