Thursday, March 10, 2011

Write: Donut Hunting

I had my days mixed up yesterday and kept thinking it was already Thursday.  So I apologize for the late post with no warning.  I hope you enjoy the quick flash fiction introduction to my newest creations.  

Have a happy Thursday! 

“Felix, butts and elbows!”

“It’s six in the morning, Moe.  What the hell am I doing up this early?  No monster attacks at six in the morning.”

“Maybe not monsters, but cops attack donuts.  Humans attack the road.  And dawn attacks the night.  Get up, lazy, and get going.”  Moe grinned at the redhead and slung his duffle bag over a shoulder as he headed out the room.  The door banged against the wall and morning light filled the room.  Moe started whistling at his highest pitch as he slung his bag into the backseat.  He could hear Felix groan as the high pitch woke up him further. 

The pair had gotten into town at a decent hour last night, but Felix decided that it was his duty to investigate the different bottles at the hotel bar.  Moe leaned against the door and dug into the box of donuts he had liberated from the shop before the cops got there.  In all his fifty years, he wasn’t sure there was a greater joy than getting to the donut shop first.  He hid a grin behind a chocolate glaze as Felix stumbled out of the room.
The younger man was only in his mid-twenties.  He constantly had bedhead, no matter how many times he brushed his hair and this morning Moe didn’t think the redhead had even tried to tame his shaggy hair.  Felix scowled at the sun like it was shining just to spite him, opening blue eyes just enough to not run into things.  The younger man had only one arm in his flannel jacket over a black tshirt and faded jeans.  Moe had taken the time to button his plaid shirt and make sure his black jeans were clean, but Felix tended to roll out into whatever was laying closest to his bed.

“So what are we hunting so early in the morning?  Whatever it is, I think it should die.”  Felix groaned as he slung his own bag into the back.  At least he took care not to hit the gun cases. 

Moe offered him the donut box after Felix finished putting on his jacket.  When his apprentice took the box, Moe pushed off and opened the door.  Sliding into the seat, the old man tried not to laugh, “The open road, kid.  I thought we’d get an early start.” 

Felix stood where he was, meditatively munching on his donut for a few moments and staring at what had been his bed.  He heaved a heavy sigh and got in the passenger side.  He shook his head and closed the door with disgust.  “Some days I hate you, Edward Mosley.”

Laughter followed them out of town.

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