My #FlashFiction story: 21 ~ Part ONE #shortstory

To keep my creative, writing juices flowing, I’m choosing to partake in something called “Flash Fiction” writing. According to what I’ve read, it’s been around for many years. Essentially, it’s a short, short story under 2,000 words. However, I’ve also read that that number is fluid. So, anyhoo, together, my story surpasses that 2,000 word limit, but I’m breaking them into pieces to mimic excerpts/sneak peeks. I will not be doing any heavy editing. This is basically for FUN. But I’d still love for you to leave feedback.

Thanks and enjoy!!!

21

PART ONE

I was prepping all week for my boy’s birthday. Me and my girl, Tiny, knew that when we got around Brian and his crew we were destined to have a blast. Brian and I have been best friends since the 6th grade, when I moved to Michigan from Arizona. He always liked me, but I didn’t give him the time of day. Back in ’86, I was in to light-skinned dudes anyway. Brian was way too dark for my liking.

I wiggled into my new mango-colored mini-skirt that hung just a smidgeon below my Hooha and my perfectly rounded ass. My nude sequined cami and platform pumps set the whole outfit off. I grabbed my over-sized hand bag and slung it in the crease of my arm.

“Timiko!” Tiny yelled from the living room, not knowing I was standing right behind her.

“Stop calling me like it’s an emergency or somethin’.” She jumped as she turned around and clutched her chest.

“Can’t never be on time for shit. I was about to leave yo ass.” Tiny idly threatened.  “But you do look cute as hell though.”

Tiny eyed me as I spun on the balls of my feet a few times so she could get an even better view.

“Ok, you can stop now. I don’t want you to get dizzy.” We both laughed.

Tiny was the only “girl” friend that I had. I was usually apprehensive about friending females. I know that us Black women should stick together and unite and such and such, but, females are shady. Period!

I hopped in the passenger side of her black on black G6. She was a much better driver than I would ever be. She did 90 easy on the freeway, zipping in and out of traffic with the stealth of a professional on a closed course.  She’s driven this way for years, ever since we got our driver’s license when we were 16 years old. She did get a lot of practice over the years. I often teased her because she had to always drive her daddy home from the local bar when she was 11. That gave her plenty of years to master her craft.

Parking in Downtown Detroit was ridiculous, like any big city. We could take the chance and park in an alley and pray it was still there at 2 a.m. or park in an over-priced lot of someone who may or may not own it. We cared about our safety too much to take risks. Plus, we’re two fine young ladies in a crime-ridden city. We had to be as safe as possible.

I gave Tiny a $10 bill to cover my half of the parking. We walked a few steps and stood in line of the hottest night club of the week ~ Legends. I started to reach for my mace that was craftily concealed in one of my gigantic but cute bangle bracelets when I felt someone grab my hand.

“Boy, you was about to get molly whopped!” I said to Brian’s best friend Jeff.

He smiled showing all 52, 32, or however many teeth humans have. Good thing they were all straight and white, or else I’d tell him to close his big ass mouth.

“You so silly. Why are y’all standing in line?”

Tiny and I looked at each other, then at all the folks in front of us.

“Um, because, that’s what we were taught to do back in Kindergarten. Never cut.” Tiny chuckled.

“We V.I.P. Y’all don’t have to stand in line for shit.” I allowed Jeff to take me by the hand and I grabbed Tiny’s as we all bypassed the common-folks, the bouncer, and went through the front door.

Tiny leaned over and whispered, “I want that dick tonight.”

She totally caught me off guard, and I almost lost my footing. Jeff was decent-looking. He was about six feet with a slim physique, borderline skinny. He played basketball, football, and ran track in high school, giving him some muscularity. He wasn’t my type either.

TO BE CONTINUED….

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