Category: Prose

As Rafael finished texting Bill the message “pedophile traffic second tunnel east” that kept flashing in his mind, his daughter, Celia, arrived, sat down at the outdoor café table, and, as he expected she would, began berating him. Listening to her reminded him of the disrespectful way he treated his own father decades ago and given that experience he knew there would be no service he could perform to make things right with her. Suddenly Celia rose to leave and hissed, “Who do you think you are anyway?” 

Sensing this as his last opportunity, Rafael quickly said when she rushed off, “Don’t trust that guy you’re with.”

When Celia reached her apartment she remained outside pacing the sidewalk trying to imagine which deceiving friend betrayed her by telling her dad about Derek, how it was done, and how she would get even. Rafael slowly sipped his coffee hoping she might return, wondering if it would be a good idea to try to meet her again, and then stood up, put his empty cup in the dirty dish container, and left.

Denise offers the prompt word “service” for this week’s Six Sentence Stories. Continued from Filter – Six Sentence Story. Next: Walk – Six Sentence Story or Gear – Six Sentence Story.

The email filter kept Rafael’s messages, rare though they be from this bouncer and saint, assuming proper discernment, at the top of Bill’s inbox until read. What Rafael sent today was “pedophile traffic second tunnel east” which was all Helen needed to dispatch agents.

Helen never met Rafael, but Bill often did when passing the revival tent where Rafael worked the streets explaining once to Rafael that he was suffering from the lingering side-effects of a flu. Hearing this as a call for help rather than a lame excuse not to go into the tent, Rafael gripped Bill’s shoulder with a hand that could have dropped a terrorist praying that, through Jesus, “this illness leave my brother”.

That was twenty years ago. Bill had since relocated, but Rafael kept in contact through messages uncanny in their accuracy, and that pesky flu didn’t dare return.

Denise offers the prompt word “filter” for this week’s Six Sentence Stories. This story continues from Journey – Six Sentence Story. Next: Service – Six Sentence Story. Or perhaps Effervescent – Six Sentence Story.

If you want to know more about revival tent meetings, well, I’ve never been to one, but I just read Mario Murillo’s post Why Modesto is going to be so different. My thoughts for revival take off from there.

As expected the corrupt judge released the assassins back onto the streets. Their attorney filed a complaint against the officers who made the arrests, but no one at the station knew who those officers were. Not even the medics in the ambulance who received the assassins with all the paperwork neatly printed out could identify them.

Since the surgeon who removed the bullets from their arms didn’t notice the tracking devices that the shots were intended to deliver, once the assassins were released Helen began logging their journey.

Pointing to her monitor, Helen said, “The way these guys wander about the city I wonder if they took the blue pill or the red pill.”

“They’re dumb enough to take both.”

Denise offers the prompt word “journey” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Story. This is a continuation from Theory – Six Sentence Story. The next part is Filter – Six Sentence Story.

When Headquarters collapsed the surviving complicit agencies frantically made attempts to cover their tracks by assigning two hitmen to take out Bill and Timothy inside a bar. Upon entering the bar the hitmen noted the location of the barmaid and a quarrelling couple along with their primary targets.

In more civilized times opponents, in theory, would face each other on dusty streets with cemeteries in full view where one or both would be forced to rest in peace while the decent folk got out of the way. 

Today when the two assassins with bitcoins dancing in their heads drew their weapons the quarrelling couple stopped quarrelling and, in spite of shots being fired, arrested these valuable sources of information on this side of eternity.

After the couple escorted the hitmen out of the bar Timothy permitted the owner with his clientele back in. Although Bill tried to convince them, scoffers all, that they were filming an action movie, it was only when the barmaid handed the owner and each of his customers envelopes generously stuffed with cold, hard, fiat cash that everyone was happy.

Denise offers the word “theory” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Story. This story continues from Rodeo – Six Sentence Story. Next: Journey – Six Sentence Story.

This wasn’t Timothy’s first rodeo, but the corruption went deeper than he suspected. The interrogations after the fall of Headquarters led to the whereabouts of additional missing people, mostly children, more than he had anticipated.

“Do you think we’ve found all of them?” Helen asked.

Helen first met Timothy when she was investigating the kidnapping of his own daughter a decade earlier. She remembered him telling her during their month-long search that his prayers left him convinced that his daughter had always been in stronger arms than his own even before they found the body.

As to whether they located all of the victims, Timothy said, “I hope there will never be any more.”

Denise offers the prompt word “rodeo” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Story. This story continues from Kaleidoscope – Six Sentence Story. Next part is Theory – Six Sentence Story.