Monday morning at 10 AM we get another prompt from Trifecta. You don’t know who Trifecta is? It is a group that provides two prompts each week, on Monday and Friday for your fiction writing pleasure. The Monday prompt is geared to fall between 33 and 333 words and based on a one word prompt. Using the third definition from the Merriam Webster Online Dictionary you will put together a fiction masterpiece. Along with the other nearly 100 writers taking the plunge you will create an exciting story for others to read.
With that said let’s get on to the word for Trifecta Week Ninety-Two.
2: failure, flop; especially : a theatrical production that has failed
3: three successive strikes in bowling
4: a stupid, foolish, or inept person
The morning sun began to heat up Sophie’s neck as she stood observing the scene of the murder. Tom welling had his sunglasses perched on his nose, watching the crime scene folks milling about as they did their thing.
“I think we have done all we can here,” Sophie declared.
“Let’s see if anyone knows the victim,” Tom said.
The first building they entered was the Falling Pins bowling alley. The place was mainly empty at his time of the morning, but open because the owner was doing lane maintenance. The man looked like he was in his mid-fifties, with thick gray hair, a bushy mustache and significant paunch at his belt. He first flashed a look of annoyance, and then quickly found his best salesman’s smile, expecting they were there to spend some money at his establishment.
“I have one lane available!” he said aiming toward the counter that fronted the rental shoes.
“We aren’t here to bowl,” Sophie replied.
“Oh. Well, what can I do for you?”
Each of them flashed their badges, giving their names to the owner.
“I am Gregor Stepanovich. Welcome, what can I do for you today?”
“You know of the murder outside?” Tom asked.
“Of course. I stayed inside because I knew I could do nothing but get in the way.”
“We need to ask if you know the victim,” Sophie said. She pulled out her smart phone and turned it to allow Stepanovich to look at the lifeless face of Conrad Kord.
“Ya. I know him. He is good bowler. He had a couple Turkey last night.”
“A Turkey?” Sophie questioned as she looked up from the writing on her pad.
“Three consecutive strikes,” Tom answered before Stepanovich could speak.
“Did Kord have any trouble last night?”
“No. He left about midnight, when the kids came for the bargain prices. Kord is not much for teenagers.”
Tom answered his phone and motioned to Sophie. “We gotta run. We are needed at the station.”
I want to share another opportunity for those of you who love writing flash fiction. Red Dyer and Redmund Productions offer a quarterly publication that gathers 250 flash fiction stories according to a specific theme and set of words during a thirteen week time period. Right now is the fall session and several words are already in play. There is still over a month to go with this, so hop on over and try your hand: http://mommasmoneymatters.com/flash-fiction/