It’s All About the Money: Flash Fiction

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She follows him silently. It’s 11.07pm, and people still mill around the streets. The people don’t worry her. She’sIt's All About the Money in yellow text on a grey background woth a black edge. There's a row of yellow pound and dollar signs running along the bottom dressed to blend in. No one will even remember seeing her. She feels like this should sadden her, but it doesn’t. The people who matter see her, and going unnoticed is all part of her appeal.

Sometimes when the time comes, she wishes she didn’t have to do this, but today isn’t that day. She just wants to get it done and get home.

She follows him into the alley. He doesn’t hear her coming, doesn’t know she’s there until he feels the barrel of the gun on the base of his skull, and even then, he barely registers it before the soft wumpf sound comes and he’s falling.

She slips away and sends a single word from her burner phone: done. The money will be wired to her within the hour.

 

 

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37 Comments

  8. Such a short story and yet chilling. Have always loved the verb “to mill” and remember learning it in comprehension at school. Made me reflect too on how I come across to people as I am sure we all do with some noticing us and some not so. Very powerful writing. #AnythingGoes

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