Monday's Fiction in 58

It’s Monday, time for a Fiction in 58.

The note was scribbled on a piece of notebook paper, college rule, the light blue lines just a suggestion for the scrawl. She folded it in halfs, until it was a snug package.
She dropped it in her clutch, along with the .38 missing its serial number.
He could wait.
She could wait, too, until her bruises faded.


J.C. said...

You're a flash fiction master. All there is to it.

Dee Martin said...

good stuff.