Friday Fictioneers: Dreams Of Anarchy

This was written for Friday Fictioneers. Friday Fictioneers is a challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields to write a 100-word story inspired by the below photo prompt. I didn’t work in any diaper morals this week. Sorry.


Dreams Of Anarchy

Bullets whizzed by Michael as he swerved around cars. He cut down the dead-end alley and slid, dropping to the ground. A single shot took out his would-be assassin. The car stopped meters from his face.

“You know buying a motorcycle isn’t going to make you an international superspy or something, right?”

“Of course,” said Michael, ripped from his reverie. “Tasha will think it’s hot.”

“Or you could ask her out.”

“I’ve tried. I freeze.”

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?”

“No, but how hard could it be?”

Tasha visited Michael in the hospital. He never woke from his coma.

37 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Dreams Of Anarchy

Add yours

    1. There is indeed nothing vaginal about my feet. One hundred words gives no time for such piffle. Ride or die or both, in this case.

      For future reference, the proper way to deify Jay-Z is Jay Hova. His rules, not mine.

      Liked by 1 person

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