Welcome ladies and gentlemen to a segment that I hope to make a regular part of everyday life on the buffet until I grow bored of it. And since you’ll probably never see another installment, you’d better enjoy the cheese out of this one. Anyhoo, this segment is Five Minute Fiction, which means that I wrote this in a five minute stretch without stopping and without much in the way of thought or narrative or quality. Read it…FOR AMERICA.
Dirk knew he would die tonight. When Ginger had called, the tremble in her voice let him know that she was scaredÃ¢â¬Â¦good and scared. What Dirk feared most was an ambush. His brother used to ambush him all the time on the walk home from school, which was interesting since they always walked side by side. Even as a youngster, Dirk was as thick as a brick wallÃ¢â¬Â¦and not in the good way.
Dirk rushed in, and was immediately hit in the face with something. When he bent over to pick it up, he could feel its rough yet pliable texture in the darkness. Taking it into the moonlight, he could see it was a sponge. Damn it, Dirk thought. They know about that. He dropped the sponge and walked back into the darkness, using it as a shield against his opponent. He turned a corner into a lit room. It was Duke, GingerÃ¢â¬â¢s brother. HeÃ¢â¬â¢d been drinking again. Dirk could tell because the room was engulfed in flame. Duke was an arsonistic drunk. It doesnÃ¢â¬â¢t happen to many, but when it does there are always complications.
Ã¢â¬ÅHappy birthday, Dirk! WhatÃ¢â¬â¢s 40 like?Ã¢â¬?
Ã¢â¬ÅI donÃ¢â¬â¢t know,Ã¢â¬? Dirk responded coolly. Ã¢â¬ÅIÃ¢â¬â¢m only 32.Ã¢â¬?