Whipped (Flash Fiction)


Dan and John both looked whipped as I entered the motel office.

“This lady wants ninety dollars,” Dan whined.

“Ma’am, we’re three old guys tryin; to spread Joe’s ashes at Apache Creek,” I said, holding up a quart jar of ashes. “Joe’s sister is coming from Vegas in the mornin’, John rode a motorcycle from Oregon, Dan came from Show Low, and I just got here from Dallas. Can you give us a discount?”

“Well, seventy dollars?”

“Done!” I said, handing her five twentys.”

“How’d you do that?” asked Dan.

“Ya gotta ask,” I said.

(98 words)


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